shock then awwwwww 🥰 There is an undeniable chemical reaction that happens when a skilled Dominant creates an emotionally, physically safe space.It can permeate play and every day! As a submissive, im constantly chasing that dopamine rush. The contrast of adrenaline high, being thrust 100% into my body. Immediately shocked into the feelings, scents, sounds, taste…. Until Completely depleted and exhausted. followed by being held. Dissolving into His body heat. Slowly, methodically talked down by His deep voice, grounded in my body, calmed, caressed by His words. His voice, His touch become my safety. In those moments, nothing else exists. No thought, only gratitude. This is where im meant to be…. Why i will follow Him, do everything He asks without hesitation. How i navigate each day, focused on Him. Always moving back toward this space. ive submitted to different degrees over the years. It wasn’t until recently that i was shown the difference between choosing to submit and absolute submission of heart, body, mind. There’s no going back now… “Anything less would be uncivilized

  The BDSM lifestyle is often thought of as painful play and humiliation.  Bruises and degradation.  Is the kink lifestyle all pain and shame?  Is there more to discover……  

Some of us are born to serve.  I sought out alpha males online as a horny porn obsessed boy. One of those Daddy's began to use me and fill me after weeks of convincing and guidance as I ackwowledged i wanted to get fucked not fuck and that I like the idea of having my pussy filled. Daddy Mark suggested household suppiies to penetrate my hole.  I began to jerk off with my clit over my mouth. I came into my mouth. I ate my cum. Daddy Mark wanted to meet. After limited resistance Daddy Mark drove to my neighborhood late at night where I snuck out and met him in a quiet area a few blocks from my home. He directed me to wear only a tshirt and shorts and to approach his van. When he opened the door he told me to get in and remove my clothes and hand them to him. I did as told.  He filled both my holes. He fed me poppers as he showed me porn of twinks being bred.  I left knowing that I'd never do that again.  Two weeks later I did that again. This time in my youth baseball uniform. He filled me with my jock strap on.  "You're made to be a bottom bitch," Daddy Mark said. "You're the most eager bottom I've ever had." Meeting 3 saw me sink deeper. I told my parents I'd be spending a weekend at a friends house but instead rode with Daddy Mark to his house, where a sex swing, basement playroom and two Daddys waited to make me their bitch.  I've slowly accepted I want to be a slave. Owned, taken, shaped, used. I'm a sissy. Open to relcation, few limits, TPE and life free to be a slave.  

I have not written a note in so long. Life has been changing so much lately. new job, different city, then another new job and another old city. Now I am on a summer sabbatical of travel through the Atlanta and Savannah areas because I find it peaceful and love both cities for different reasons.   I need a new boy. A real boy with great energy, quiet strength and a cute smile.   I want him to dance for me. I want him to cook for me and share his secret thoughts that he seems too shy to tell anyone else. I want him naked and begging for me. I want him to clean and work for me. I want him to smile for me. I want that sweetness that is calm and not weak while also not being arrogant. I want him to NOT know everything because I still do NOT. I should be the ONE who gets to decide everything but I should NOT HAVE to be the ONE who THINKS of everything.   I wonder if this is to be found anywhere? I will hope for it. You don't have to be a perfect boy to start with me, but you do have to HOPE to become one for me.

I know what I want and willing to train, teach and discipline...not in position to support you as I am on SSI and have roommates..what I am looking for are roommates to relocate to North Bend/Coos Bay Oregon..we would have to get OUR own place...you MUST be willing to live 24/7 as female if not one already..you have a dream and so do I that is turning you into very feminine classy sophisticated woman outside the house and a cum loving bitch behind closed doors...understand this will be poly household with ONLY one DOM..have been on here under various aliases...NO photos showing butt plugs or stubbie or you will be blocked....current photos showing you in favorite outfits...so that you know my training techniques take between 18 months to 3 years to complete ,,,I ask for serious commitment after we have gotten to know on another.....I am very assertive, very aggressive, very controlling and have a habit of micro managing but chalk that up as being  Dom,,,,what type of foundation has been laid for me to build OUR house on?

As promised, here is a copy of your BDSMTest result with ID uZkZThzx100% Degradee100% Rope bunny100% Submissive99% Voyeur93% Exhibitionist92% Pet92% Slave85% Masochist80% Experimentalist70% Primal (Prey)59% Non-monogamist30% Vanilla9% Brat4% Primal (Hunter)0% Daddy/Mommy0% Rigger0% Ageplayer0% Brat tamer0% Degrader0% Dominant0% Little0% Master/Mistress0% Owner0% Sadist0% SwitchYou can also view it online at https://bdsmtest.org/r/uZkZThzx?lang=EN

I don't think I am being a snob but I really don't want to date the following:     PE Teachers Married men Amazon drivers Delivery drivers Uncertified psychologists but claim to be life coaches (sad bunch) Boring IT guys (you guys are lazy as fuck) Men in prison usin the computers to go on CS and telling me about the wrongful rape convictions and think they can support my sexual needs online (Jesus can't even save you). I am nothing special but come on someone with a flavour for life and traveling the world or going for a long walk in Thetford Forest (with camping gear and compass). Someone who likes DX biking or countryside biking or hanging out in Norfolk going for a walk and drinking hot chocolate and coffee. Come on! I am not going to allow any deviant to spank me 

I  regularly visit this site and Fetlife to check for messages when I do not have a slave in my home.  If you want to learn more about me my profile has a lot of information. I was responding to someone today and realized that my words might be helpful to post here as a journal entry. I can say that I am very real but the definition of real could be different for everyone. Maybe what sets me aside from most on here is I am only interested in real life? Maybe it is that I have had slaves live in my home for over twenty years? Maybe it is that when a slave is in my home I take care of EVERYTHING and her only responsibility is to take care of me. I own my home and a sucsessful business in paradise and I do not need a slave to work outside my home. It is important that any potential slave understand that being MY slave is not all about sex.  I have no interest in having long sexually explict email chat or phone conversations so that you can masturbate. If a submissive or slave is interested in visiting and just having a great week as my slave I am open to that. If you want to be considered as my slave than you will find my questions are not like most of the self appointed Doms or Masters on here.  I am interested in the things that actually matter when I am considering bringing someone into my home. Things LIKE, What is your current living situation? Friends Family Roommates etc? What is your marital status? Married Separated Divorced Never Married? Children? Have you ever been pregnant? Can you become pregnant? Financial status? In my home I take on all responsibilities and if you have a large credit card debt car payments or some other debt it becomes my responsibility. Have you ever filed bankruptcy? Health? Have you had or do you have any STDs? Have you ever been diagnosed with a medical condition like diabetes depression or anxiety that requires a medication? Are you willing to relocate? When? Being a true slave is more than just about sex you will be responsible for all of my domestic duties. Those who want to talk about what Toys I have or How often they will be beaten are just looking for material to masturbate too.   By real I mean our conversations will be about mutial interest but the central theme will be your visit regardless if it is short or long term. If you are not ready to meet in REAL life then I do not consider you real.

Alright, feral creatures. Drag your claws in a circle and listen.   If your master plan is to speed run your BDSM bucket list with strangers like you’re farming achievements, you are not practicing power exchange. You are running a fantasy drive thru.   Hi yes, I’ll take one degradation scene, extra intensity, no emotional labor.   That’s not dominance.   That’s not submission.   That’s transactional self gratification wearing a harness.   Power exchange is not a vending machine. It is not a same night shipping option for your curiosity. It is a relational structure built on trust, communication, and actual human care.   You cannot ethically hold power over someone you do not care about. Period.   Now let’s talk about pick up play before someone starts twitching.   Picking up someone you’ve seen in the community? Someone you’ve observed at events? You’ve watched how they negotiate. How they respond to a safeword. How they treat people after scenes. How they handle NO. You’ve seen them interact when they’re not performing.   That’s informed risk.   Scooping up a total stranger with zero shared community, zero references, zero behavioral observation, and hoping adrenaline carries you through?   That’s rolling dice with someone’s nervous system.   Vibes are not vetting.   And while we’re here get involved in the community.   Go to munches.   Go to vettings.   Go to classes/workshops.   Go sit at a table and actually talk to people without trying to collect them.   Observe.   Watch how people interact. Notice who listens. Notice who interrupts. Notice who respaspects space. Notice who name drops. Notice who checks in after someone looks overwhelmed. Notice who vanishes when cleanup starts.   Munches are not play parties. Vettings are not auditions for your bucket list.   They are spaces to build familiarity. To understand hosts and their rules. To learn the culture of a specific dungeon or group. These events take time, money, and energy to plan. Hosts coordinate venues. They set safety protocols. They build community frameworks.   Treat that with respect.   Don’t roll in like it’s a pregame for your fantasy scavenger hunt.   Power exchange requires infrastructure:   Clear negotiation   Explicit limits   Aftercare planning   Emotional accountability   Community awareness   If you don’t have the patience to build that foundation, you don’t want BDSM. You want intensity without responsibility.   And here’s the gremlin truth: when you treat people like checklist items, you erode the very ecosystem that keeps kink safer.   Community exists so we can:   Share information   Protect each other   Vet behavior   Build trust over time   You want to dominate? Learn how to communicate without posturing.   You want to submit? Learn how to advocate for yourself without shrinking.   You want to explore? Learn how to build relationships that can hold intensity safely.   Slow down.   Show up consistently.   Respect the hosts.   Respect the spaces.   Respect the humans.   Otherwise you’re not practicing power exchange.   You’re just chasing adrenaline for an orgasm and hoping nobody gets hurt when the crash hits.   And that’s not edgy.   That’s just reckless with better lighting.

Push Limits!!! Why? Lack of experience and imagination or just to make make a submissive do things they stated as a limit. Fully understand pushing and developing a submissive towards the Dominants desires but those who start off by concentrating just on pushing & testing limits surely lack a true understanding of the lifestyle. As always i welcome the views and comments of O/others.

Who’s time is it anyway?   I would not take to property any slave that was not totally My property.   On more than one occasion, I have had prospective slaves misunderstand time. The slaves in question have offered non specific time instead of a definite time I directed.    Some slaves are journalling at My request. I direct them to make daily submissions to Me at a specific time each day; a time of slave’s choice. Many respond by offering a non-compliant time. They might offer to obey direction for journal submission the morning or evening of each day.   That broad a time frame may be convenient for the slave. A non-specific time may work well in their life.    The basic problem is the idea that the slave has the option to arrange its life for its convenience. The slave seems to hold the belief that time belongs to it to manage. A total slave owns nothing, especially time. Time is one of the many things that are in the province of its Owner. Having it operate as a supplicant on My time frame teaches it the lesson about, “Who’s time is it anyway.”

From my group  -re-sharing here - Why language matters. Or, Darmok and Jalad. Jan 30, 2019 I had a reminder this week, (not that this week is that unusual, but some cases are more extreme than others) at how important it is to have a common language in any interaction we have with others. Most of our lives, the average American at least walks around hearing English, speaking English, reading English, and assuming they understand what other people are saying. And vice versa - they assume they are understood. And yet, so much of our attempts to communicate end in misfires.  Often, it's because we don't really care enough about the interaction, and we glide along on autopilot, comfortable in the status quo quality of our interactions. We are usually getting enough of what we need out of it that we often don't even question it. Often, if there's a problem, we make a scene to make it clear that no, that's NOT what we meant, or that isn't what was said to us, etc but unless we feel slighted, or it leads to the loss of something we DO value - a comment made here that loses us a promotion, or a question not answered loses someone's interest, or a tone of voice makes us concerned for a possible loss of status- unless it's serious, it's just anger and fuss and it's over. THEN, it may become a real issue, worth some thought, but by then, it's really too late. The miscommunication has happened, the thought process it started it under way, and a feeling has been had, etc.  Stick with me here.  At it's most basic level, language is how we express a thought. It's pretty common to believe that most of the time, other people from a similar area have similar thoughts to our own about a general variety of things. We expect that they want the same basic things, because we are all human, and most of the people we deal with were raised similarly, and had similar experiences. And that they will use the same words as we do to describe them. That's where the screeching halt comes in.  "Most adult native test-takers range from 20,000–35,000 words." That's a decent vocabulary. It should mean that most of us that speak English will have plenty of words in common to have a discussion and be understood with enough clarity to make it through most common joint activities.  That said, most people don't tend to think too deeply about words themselves. Which means when you start to want more than just "enough to get by" conversation, things can get a bit complicated. And in cases where you need to negotiate something VERY specific, in depth, such as the fine details of kink or what our limits are... suddenly, your vocabulary will not only need to grow, but become very precise.  I'm not seeing that as often as I would expect from the letters I receive. In fact, the majority of people that write me seem frustrated by the need for words at all, and irritated by the requirement that we spend some time talking about anything that isn't a deion of a sex act. Which baffles me... if you are wanting someone to tie you up, do ... THINGS ... to you, while you are helpless, etc, wouldn't you REALLY REALLY want to make sure that the things they want to DO are the same things you want DONE? Wouldn't you be DEEPLY interested in making sure they are the kind of person that honors your Safe Word, or who shares your definition of "honest," or who won't just walk off with your wallet and DVD player while you are tied down, or who won't turn out to be straight up batshit nuts?  I've had another rash of "own me" messages. Interspersed of course with the regular "total sub" offers.  The topic at hand isn't the "I'm a TOTAL sub!" who responds to "ok, go read this for me and tell me what you think" with "What? That's not what I want! I'm a SEXUAL submissive!" Or even the "i want to be ur slave" that can't obey enough to respond to an email on time.  This topic is about the problem that causes that problem in the first place.  I received one this week from a very pretty dick pic with an empty profile that did read enough to call me Domina, but obviously nothing else, so I sent a link to the "First Impressions" thread, and followed with "Consider Your Target Audience." You can guess how it went. Before he got to "Bye, Bitchhhhhh!" he told me he wanted me to "own" him. And he referred to himself as "very kinky like to be watched ! Masterbaiting live turns me on" (Yes, that's how he spelled it.) Meh. No great loss.  Later, sissy under consideration asked if I was at all interested by Dick Pic Guy. Aside from the obvious stunted mentality of thinking his naked dick somehow mattered, he was a good tool to explain the problem of common language/vocabulary.  While being turned on by being watched is very common, and whatever floats your boat, etc that he described himself as very kinky based on that was a VERY clear indicator that we weren't even speaking the same language in regards to kink. Much like the majority of the people that write me, he had an interest in something, and had set out to pursue that, and as it wasn't mainstream, they thought it must mean they were REALLY out there crazy kinky. (Hell, ex-husband number two thought anal was the height of twisted and kinky.) Now, obviously, there was no actual interest in submission, or desire to actually be owned, so there was no point in even considering trying to have a conversation.  However, if there actually HAD been interest, if he had just been a newbie and without clue, there would have been this huge gap of vocabulary to fill in before we could have ever tried to talk about anything more than "go for coffee, get spanked." Before we could get to "what turns you on" there would have had to be the initial "what do you know so far, what have you read, what have you tried" just to see what he MEANT by "kinky" or "spanking" or even "turned on." Did "turned on" specifically mean sexually aroused and only that? Does "masterbaiting" (sorry, but OMG LOLOL) just mean "wrap your hand around your dick and rub up and down with or without lube" because it could mean SO FUCKING MUCH MORE to someone else, and in my mind, doesn't always necessarily include anything physical. Ownership? If we haven't even discussed what the word "submissive" means in depth, how can we possibly try to define "Owned" yet? Are we talking an actual legal arrangement with signed contracts and documentation as regards to property, or do you just like the way the word sounds?  Because that matters to me. All of the delicate nuances of meaning hold POWER. Consent is POWER. I absofuckinglutely want to feel like I OWN you, down to your last molecule, if I am going to have that, and we have to figure out exactly how many molecules you have to give for that to happen.  "You just offered an unknown amount of you don't know what to a total stranger."  If you are handing out candy from a bag in your hand, "take it all" is easy. And taking that whole bag may be easy. Hell, I like candy. Maybe I'll want your candy. However - If you actually have a whole trunkful of candy, and you say "take it all" without sharing that "all" may be a couple hundred pounds of confection, that is going to make a difference. Do I like that candy enough to want a whole trunkful? Will it get stale long before I can eat it all? Are you going to throw a tantrum if I share that candy with a park full of kids, or is it truly mine, to do with as I please? Are you going to pout if I toss i

  Your Negotiation Means Nothing If the Results Were Forged [CW: STI non-disclosure, predatory behavior, legal consequences, community safety] Let me paint you a picture. Someone gets a positive result. Instead of disclosing instead of doing the one thing that consent absolutely requires they go shopping. They find a friend. They swap names on paperwork. They screenshot someone else's results. They walk into your negotiation with fabricated proof and a smile, and everything you agreed to was built on a lie. Your yes was never real. You consented to a fiction. And now you're living with the consequences. This isn't just a community problem. It is a crime. And I want the people doing this to understand exactly what they're walking into because the law in these states doesn't mess around. FLORIDA Under Florida Statute §384.24, you don't even have to transmit anything. Knowingly having an infection, being informed you can transmit it, and sleeping with someone without disclosure is already the crime. Non-disclosure of most STIs is a First Degree Misdemeanor. Non-disclosure of HIV is a Third Degree Felony up to 5 years. A repeat offense escalates to a First Degree Felony. The statute covers gonorrhea, chlamydia, syphilis, herpes, and HIV. Fabricating test results to obtain that consent? That's fraud layered on top of the underlying charge. GEORGIA Under Georgia Code 16-5-60, there are criminal penalties for reckless conduct involving HIV and hepatitis transmission. Prosecutors in Georgia are aggressive about pursuing charges against those who fail to disclose their status to sexual partners. And for anything not specifically named in the statute syphilis, herpes, anything else a person can still face assault charges. TENNESSEE Criminal exposure to HIV in Tennessee is a Class C Felony that is three to fifteen years in prison and up to $10,000 in fines. Tennessee covers HIV, Hepatitis B, and Hepatitis C specifically under criminal exposure law. The burden falls on the defendant to prove disclosure happened, and proving disclosure is notoriously difficult because there is rarely documentation so it often comes down to whose word gets believed in front of a jury. ALABAMA Alabama's communicable disease exposure statute casts a wide net "contact" is broadly undefined, meaning a whole range of behaviors can be criminalized, and neither intent to transmit nor actual transmission is required for prosecution. Alabama has also pursued HIV exposure cases under general criminal law, including attempted murder charges where intent can be established. MISSISSIPPI Mississippi's felony exposure statute covers HIV, Hepatitis B, and Hepatitis C. Exposure without disclosure can result in felony charges. This is not a state where you want to test those limits. SOUTH CAROLINA South Carolina carries explicit criminal exposure statutes covering HIV, Hepatitis B, and Hepatitis C both misdemeanor and felony tiers depending on the circumstances and the infection involved. LOUISIANA Louisiana has been actively expanding its reach. Intentional exposure to incurable STIs without disclosure has been the subject of legislation targeting up to 10 years in prison and $5,000 in fines. Syphilis and herpes both incurable fall squarely in that conversation. And then there's civil court which doesn't need a criminal conviction to destroy you. If a partner knowingly infaspects you, you can file civil battery or negligence claims. Intentional, unconsented, harmful contact raises the damages recovered and can run alongside criminal charges simultaneously. A fabricated test result isn't a defense it's evidence of premeditation. A civil attorney will use it to light you on fire. Now let's talk about the test swapping specifically. Presenting falsified medical documentation to obtain sexual consent is fraud. Full stop. It potentially constitutes identity fraud, forgery, and fraud to obtain consent all separate charges that can stack on top of whatever STI exposure statute applies. You handed someone else's results to your partner. That's a paper trail. That's a witness. That's a case. What this means for all of us in this community We build our entire framework on the quality of the information exchanged during negotiation. One lie poisons the whole structure. Informed consent isn't informed if the information is fake. Ask for documentation. Ask about the lab. Ask about the date. Cross reference the details. If someone treats those questions like an insult if they get hostile, evasive, or suddenly defensive about you wanting to verify what they've handed you that reaction is data. Use it. Protect yourself. Know your rights. And if something has already happened to you talk to someone who can help you understand your options. You have them. Legal References Florida Fla. Stat. 384.24 Unlawful Sexual Intercourse / STI Non-Disclosure Florida Fla. Stat. 384.34 Penalties for STI-related violations Georgia Ga. Code Ann. 16-5-60 Reckless Conduct / HIV & Hepatitis Exposure Tennessee Tenn. Code Ann. 39-13-109 Criminal Exposure to HIV, HBV, HCV (Class C Felony) Alabama Ala. Code 22-11A-21 Communicable Disease Exposure Statute Mississippi Miss. Code Ann. 97-27-14 — Felony Exposure (HIV, HBV, HCV) South Carolina S.C. Code Ann. 44-29-145 — Criminal Sexual Conduct with STI Non-Disclosure Louisiana La. R.S. 14:43.5 — Intentional Exposure to AIDS Virus; pending expansion legislation Civil Liability Negligence & Battery claims available in all 50 states; no criminal conviction required https://www.nolo.com/legal-encyclopedia/sexually-transmitted-diseases-stds-lawsuits.html https://www.hivlawandpolicy.org/state-profiles/south-carolina https://www.kevinkuliklaw.com/is-std-transmission-a-criminal-offense-in-florida/ https://www.legalmatch.com/law-library/article/liability-for-transmitting-a-sexually-transmitted-disease.html https://www.criminaldefenselawyer.com/resources/transmitting-std-florida.htm https://www.criminaldefenselawyer.com/resources/transmitting-std-north-carolina.htm  

The Yearning for Grounding: Finding Purpose in a Dominant Dynamic.. We all possess hidden desires, yearnings that often simmer beneath the surface of our carefully constructed personas. One such yearning, perhaps more common than we readily admit, is the desire to be truly seen, and subsequently, guided, challenged, and even, in a sense, controlled. This isn't necessarily about literal ownership, but rather a deep craving for structure, direction, and the secure boundaries offered by a strong, assertive presence.The idea of being objectified, used for amusement, might sound unsettling at first glance. But on deeper reflection, it can be interpreted as a desire to be a source of light and joy for someone else. To be valued, appreciated, even celebrated for what you bring to their life, even if that role is perceived as subservient. This isn't about self-degradation, but rather about finding fulfillment in serving a purpose, in bringing happiness to another.The reality of a superior mentor, a "Guiding Lady" as it were, nurturing and shaping your path, speaks to a fundamental human need for guidance and direction. In a world often characterized by ambiguity and overwhelming choices, the prospect of surrendering to a trusted individual who can provide clarity and purpose can be incredibly appealing. It's a desire to be molded, refined, and ultimately, helped to reach one's full potential. Finding such a person provides a safe haven, a space where vulnerability is not a weakness, but an opportunity for growth.The cornerstone of any such dynamic is trust. It's not merely about submission, but about placing your faith in someone who will act in your best interest, even if that means pushing you beyond your comfort zone. The hope lies in finding a true, committed partner who understands the nuances of this dynamic and can navigate it with integrity and respect. This requires open communication, clear boundaries, and a shared understanding of expectations and limitations.Ultimately, the yearning for a dominant guiding force speaks to a deeper desire for purpose and commitment. It's a search for meaning, for a role that feels authentic and fulfilling. It's about finding someone who can not only appreciate your offerings, but also help you to become the best version of yourself. This journey may involve vulnerability, introspection, and a willingness to surrender control, but the potential reward is a profound sense of belonging, purpose, and unwavering connection. The key lies in finding that "true trusted superior person" who can provide not just direction, but also unwavering support and unwavering faith in your potential.

Hey the journal function is finally fixed!! Time to write a story about one of my (our) experiences: I shut the car door and wave goodbye to my husband, P. He blows me a kiss and pulls away. I wait until he's turned the corner and out of sight until I begin to walk up my master's driveway. It's a short walk, the house set back from the street but my path leads me into the open garage. Once past the threshold, I press the button to shut the garage door behind me. As it trundles on its tracks, I grab my sweater and pull it over my head in one quick motion. I won't need it again this weekend. My shoes, jeans, panties and socks all follow. I savor taking them off and folding them neatly, making the moment last. My backside is still sore from the punishment I received one week earlier. It had been a maid week and I had done an inadequate job with the chores. My master did not let it slide and he wanted to make sure I remember. As I stroked my bruised cheeks, I hoped it would be a kitten week. Something nice and easy, where I could be cherished and all I needed to think about was pleasure. The crate is open and I place my clothes inside. My cell phone follows along with my keys. With a sigh, I shut the crate and padlock it. Master will come and take my phone in due time, better to document my weekend for P's enjoyment and my potential humiliation. But the clothes are gone. Feeling the chill of the garage on my feet, I enter "the servant's entrance" as we jokingly call it.  Three boxes await me in the foyer. Oh shit. This is different. Usually I have no choice in how I spend the weekend. It's always one box, with either the maid's costume, the cat ears, or ... the other. But with three gift wrapped boxes in front of me, it's up to fate.  I can't open one box and change my mind. Not that disobeying master is ever an option. Whichever one I open is my weekend of service.  Can I weigh them? As I reach for the first box, I see a string attached. Nope, he'll know. I have to pick. Eenie. Meanie. Miney. "Ahem." A cleared throat from the other room. I'm in trouble already.  I make my decision and tear the wrapping paper off. Inside the box is ... Nothing. The slut this weekend, then. I walk into the living room, my hands folded in front of me, my eyes down. Master is sitting in his chair, drinking whiskey and reading. There's a pillow in front of him, directly between his feet. Keeping my eyes down, I kneel. He makes me wait, finishing this week's New Yorker. Occasionally my eyes flick up as I weigh my options. I could reach up and begin undoing his belt - the stretch of fabric in his lap tells me he's interested and excited for my weekly visit. I went for a wax earlier in the week and made sure to put my perfume on my skin so he could smell me no matter what I wore. And in my role as the slut, that would be in line with expectations. But I'm so conditioned to serve at command that I stay frozen.  He shakes his glass and I spring up to take it from his hand. I walk to the bar and as I reach for the whiskey, he says "The drawer." I open the top drawer. Inside is my collar, simple and black, a pair of silver handcuffs, and a red ballgag.  "Shall I--?" I start to ask. "Don't ask questions you should know the answer to," he says with disinterest.  OK then. I put the glass down and pick up the gag. I push it between my teeth and secure the belt behind my head. Next, the handcuffs. Does he want them in front or behind? I wish I could ask. The maid gets handcuffed in the front, so she can work. The slut, behind, so she has no control. So I slip the cuffs on behind my back, hearing the satisfied clink. But in my haste, I forgot the collar! It takes me several tries, standing on my tippy toes, mmphing with effort, to pick the collar up with my cuffed hands behind me. I trot to master happily. He finally looks at me. "My drink?" He asks. Damn it. What to do? I blink at him, fluttering my eyelashes. Push one foot in front of me and circle it back and forth on his loafer. Don't blame, I don't know any better? He takes the collar from me and cls it around my neck. Seizing my throat suddenly, he pulls me in close. "A slut does not mean you're stupid," he whispers in my ear.  One of our agreements when I first began serving him is that he'd never call me a bitch. A slut is something a person chooses to be. It's a sigh of power, both mine and his. I feel my body warm at his words and I lean down to rub my gagged mouth against his neck. He indulges me for a moment and then grabs a fistful of my hair. It's been a little while but I remember how slut weekends go. I'll be confined to the bedroom, chained to the bed most of the time. He'll film my submission and send it back to P. There's an entire box of toys for me to (mostly) enjoy, though the word "no" is gone from my vocabulary until Sunday night. My rest will be dependent on how often master wants me and how he wants me.  It will be a long, fun weekend.

6 Minths Post 6 months post break up. Post world upside down post everything. The what if is strong for some reason  If I'd come home early and just started packing, said i know you've been cheating, I'm done. If I'd stopped fighting sooner. If If If All of them don't matter, it's done now. I am sorry I put you to the side I'm sorry your drinking got so badI'm sorry we lost us.I'm sorry I wasn't enough.

I spent the better part of Friday evening in tight breast bondage. Goddess Tabitha started at the chest wall of each of my breasts and wound the thin rope round and round until each breast felt like it was being crushed.She then had me stand on a stack of books and she took an additional rope and wound it around both breasts then tossed the free end of the rope over the rafter in the living room and tied it off. With a simple slap on my bottom I stepped of the books to hang by my breasts, my toes about six inches off the floor.It was such an awkaward feeling. It felt like each breast was going to explode, it felt like they were going to be ripped from my chest, it felt like I was going to fallover backward all at the same time.She then took a lit candle and ran it around my backside. Bursts of pain and heat here and there making my body jerk adding to the pain in my breasts with each flinch.It didn't last long as my breasts actually started turning very dark, it was heaven and hell all at once. I was so very close to orgasm as she let me downAfter I was untied I had to crawl between her legs to service her needs in gratitude for my training session. I whimpered, begged with my eyes and twerked my hips to tell her how desperally I needed release. She just kissed me and said "not tonight pet, maybe tomorrow"We went to bed and cuddeled until we ferll asleep.I am such a lucky girl :)

Morning all -- we are entering a interesting time of the year - let's see who's up to the chellenge Pegtember Pegtember is the month of September when those lucky enough get to participate in pegging. Whether that is receiving or giving, rejoice- its Pegtember   Locktober When typically men put on chastity cages on for the entire month of October. No Nut November  aka  #NNN No Nut November (NNN) is an annual online challenge where submissive / slaves try to abstain from masturbation and orgasm for the entire month of November. Denial December aka #Dencember Denial December is a monthly challenge in the spirit of Pegtember, Locktober, and No Nut November. During the month of December, each day you must edge to the brink of orgasm in the amount of days that have passed in December (15 orgasms on December 15, 16 on Dec. 16, etc.). If you cum during the month, you fail the challenge. YOU MUST DENY YOURSELF ORGASM FOR THE ENTIRE MONTH TO SUCCEED. Good luck, have fun

What kind of a Dom am I? Right away you can tell that I have a sadistic side. I've often used floggers, paddles and whips on the asses of those that were mine. Flogging the ass has been my favorite, I get into a kind of zone when I get into the groove of things. I just don't wind back and let 'er rip. I will repeatedly work a small spot over and over again building up the sensitivity until it gets to that stinging phase. Sure I could just crack a whip on her, but where is the fun in that? I like to put the work in. In this instance I like to work harder, not smarter. I like a little bit of ification, humiliation and degradation. Putting my fingers in her mouth and slide them down her throat, rubbing her and my spit in her face. Place a hand on her throat and squeeze with one hand and rub that little clit with the other. Tie her up and over stimulate that clit with a strong vibrator. Messy throat fucking and gagging, I love that saliva build up. Squirting. I love that as well, and have gotten pretty good at fingering it out of her and will see how many times I can get it out of her in a session. Those were some examples of my hard side, but I also have a soft side. I can comfort her, make her feel safe and loved. Treat her kindly and sweetly. I enjoy cuddling very much, because there is that feeling of closeness that is almost hard to describe when we are in each other's arms just enjoying each other's company. A submissive with the tendencies of a little would not be a terrible thing. The spectrum of BDSM is vast, and I do not have experience in every single thing. Though one of those things I would desire more of is a sub that would enjoy anal play. I've only dipped my toes in anal sex a little bit and used butt-plugs on them, just because the girls I have been with were not all too keen in exploring it very far, which I could respect. I would enjoy delving into using larger butt-plugs, anal beads, dildos, and maybe anal fisting, but that is a big maybe because my fists are on the large side. Those are more like wants than actual needs. I am pretty much open to just about anything except for blood and shit play. There is such a thing as too messy and smelly for me.

To the One who commands the storm,   I am but a quiet breath in the dark — a lamb once lost, now kneeling, waiting, trained in stillness, shaped in fire, taught to serve not just with hands… but with heart.   Four years ago, the path found me. Led first by leash, then by longing. I have tasted both the light of loving discipline and the dark ecstasy of surrender without question. Pain, I learned, is not punishment — but the key that unlocks the soul. Submission, not weakness — but devotion in its purest form.   Now unclaimed, I wander in soft silence, a collar-shaped echo around my neck, longing for guidance, for purpose, for the gaze that sees, commands, and owns.   Should You find use for me — to kneel, to serve, to obey — I offer not just my body, but all I am, wrapped in reverence, and bound in faith.

Let’s skip the small talk. I’m a Dominant woman — not your fantasy vending machine, not a fetish dispenser, and definitely not here to be topped from the bottom. I know exactly what I want. The question is… do you? I’m looking for a submissive man. Long-term potential only — someone who’s obedient but not weak, emotionally grounded, and genuinely turned on by service and surrender. If your submission is just a fetish, don’t waste my time. But if you crave structure, purpose, and the kind of dominance that hits deeper than kink, we might be aligned.   I expect maturity, respect, and the ability to follow instructions without making it about your wants. I’m not a roleplayer, I’m not soft, and I’m not new — so come correct. What I want from a submissive: daily or regular communication, task-following, consistency, obedience, and genuine desire to serve. Not just in the bedroom, but in mindset and behavior. You need to know how to be useful, present, and respectful. Disrespect, pushiness, or laziness gets blocked immediately.   I’m not into subs who want a Domme they can control. If you’re serious, real, and understand that submission is a privilege — not a right — then approach properly. Otherwise, keep scrolling. I’m not here for weak energy or half-assed effort. Want to serve? Show me why I should let you.

Hello there... we're a Dom/sub couple with a strong relationship; we have a history of 10 years so very much comfortable with each other, we are understanding and not new to this dynamic. She is owned by Him but is always submissive.  This being the case, we're seeking a submissive female who would be possessed by both of us or other Dom Male/Females to posses her. We prefer that you live in the GTA or within an hour drive from it, since we will be hosting. We're fun and attractive and would love someone who is looking to lose themselves in an adventure where they can totally explore themselves with us or her. Him 5’10” blue eyes, Medium Build with over 30 years as a Daddy Dom, well endowed, clean and shave, stern but patient, and will answer any questions and concerns you might have. Her 5’10” blue/green eyes, small BBW with over 20 years as a sub, with 40 D’s clean and shaved. Note: Dom Male/Females will have to discuss her limits before the funs starts, all submissive can talk directly with her new subs/Dom’s welcome as we love to teach and help you grow in your roll. If you are interested please email and we will get back to you with a number you can text/talk with us if you like.

Tonight was a very bad night.  My sub collapsed  trying to get up out of bed.  He also had a fever of 101.8, was sweating up a storm and had a very high pulse rate.  Since he hates going to the hospital I gave him 2 choices.  I told him I could call 911 or take him to the ER.  We where lucky and the ER was almost empty when we got there.  They got him right in.  They gave him 3, yes THREE, huge bags filled with iv fluid.  I was surprised to find out that all his symptoms where related to a UTI.  I never thought that muscle weakness, fever, and a host of other symptoms can be related to something as simple as a UTI if you are over 50 y.o.  They gave hime fluids and i.v. antibiotics and sent him home.   He has been very good about drinking water, but since he had the infection he wasn't drinking enough water.  I am SO very glad we caught it before he fell in the yard or in his shop when he was alone.   Onto other matters.  I was talking to someone I thought was a good choice for a slave,  CS has proven me wrong again,  I sure hate the flakes here.  Why is it so hard to find an intellegent, honest slave?  I get flooded with emails, but very very very few seem to be the real thing.  I have two interviews in the new few weeks, but those I found someplace else.  Real life experence is the best way to play. I can't wait till another Kinkfest 2022.  It is a sold out event again this year. I am going to make a huge efffort to go to the play parties after all the classes.  I am so happy all of us kinky people can get back togeather again.  

Enforced chastity Asking it what its least/favorite foods are and feeding them what they least like except as a reward. Choosing if sub is allowed to look at men/women in the eyes Choosing sub's place for the night sub has ask for permission via text message for any unsupervised activity (going out, having a drink after work, ordering a second drink). Must wait for a reply before proceeding. If someone inquires about this the sub has answer truthfully. “my partner does not allow it", or "I have to ask for permission first."   Care to add to this? 

What is truth?:   In the depths of night, in the light of day, We ponder the truth that won't betray. Is it a fact, or a subtle art, A guiding light, or a shattered part?   Do we seek truth in words we hear, Or in silence, when none is near? Is it a mirror, reflecting clear, Or a whisper, elusive, never near?   In the echo of history, in the depths of time, Do we find truth in prose, or in rhyme? Does it lie in the stars, in the sky above, Or in the beating heart, in the depths thereof?   Is truth a rock, unyielding and stark, A guiding beacon through the dark? Or does it shimmer, a shifting beam, A distant hope, a fractured dream?   In the soul's deep yearning, in the mind's keen quest, We question the truth, we put it to the test. Seeking answers amid the fray, What is truth? We ask, day by day.

Something that might be useful to consider - When you write someone, especially a femme presenting person on here who is probably drowning in crap emails,  and you say any variation of "love your profile" or "I read your profile" - we can look at Who's Viewing Me? with just a simple click of the mouse, to SEE if you actually read that profile. If your name isn't there, then we know without any further effort that you are  1) a liar who will say whatever they think will get their dick wet and 2) lazy. You couldn't even put in the 3 to 5 minute effort to read and find out who we are before lying. Add in that most of us put something in the profile to sort out the time wasters, like a code word or request. That way we can see at a glance, often without even opening the email and just hovering our mouse over it, if the email has that code word or request honored. Which means only people (guys) that actually make that effort will get read or responded to. Because I can tell you after nearly 20 years on this site that the guys who don't read your profile NEVER show up. At all. They almost to a man write minimal responses to any reply they get, always about what they want done to them, and they are usualy just wanting free phone sex at most. They are a waste of time and effort, because they aren't here for actual BDSM or any variation thereof. No one wants to cater to that. Which is why we usually just delete the email without reading further.  If you actually DO want to find a BDSM partner, you need to make that effort, READ that full profile, and figure out if the person behind that pretty picture is actualy compatible with your interests, then write a REAL email to that human being much like if you walked up to them on the street, mentioning whatever code words or requests are in it, and what it was that you offer that they are wanting.  I know its slow and frustrating and a lot of work, but the alternative is being the spammer that everyone deletes automatically.

Even when we are apart, I still try my best to send him notes that'll make him happy and pleased. He loves when I'm in pain, so I tell him every time I am. Migraines, tender fingertips from blood sugar checks, toothaches, etc. I have pain meds, but to take them I must ask his permission. Whenever he replies to my messages are about these things, he enjoys them, and I enjoy his joy. It's a way we connect when we are apart.  I am thinking about taking some photos for him as well, later today. It's been awhile since I done that in general, but he loves looking at his property, and that should be priority over how I see myself.  Yes, this slave is finally bending. Master is making sure of it, but I'm also trying my very best and choosing to be intentional with my surrender.  He gave me beautiful bruises recently, as well, and I am grateful for his time, attention, sadism, and correction. Thank you, Master. Thank you for teaching me to let go and sink into your capable hands completely. 

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

"50 Shades Of Wanabees" **Will finish writing this and add the conclusion sometime in the near future. Unfortunately, work and life get in the way of passion at times not affording us the opportunity to delve into it full time. That and writing this on a cell phone is a daunting task. Read enjoy, educate, comment. It's all good. I've been involved in this lifestyle for going on 40yrs. It is a very special kind of relationship and bond that takes lots of commitment, EFFECTIVE communication, understanding and most of all....TRUST. This type of life is not for everyone especially those "vanilla relationshippers" who don't understand it or know anything about it other than the stereotype information they heard or read. It is a multi-layer, multi-dimensional universe of its own that is compromised of many of its own ecosystems. It's as vast as the many kinks and fetishes that people can imagine and transform into being on the physical plane. Although we try to categorize the many desires so we can label them and sort them in order to find fellow kinksters. It is a task less job of who done it. No different than labeling colors. To the right we have orange. To the left we have red. But what happens when we have a color that falls in between? It doesn't necessarily look orange or red on of its own. Do we call "rednge" and make it its own category so it sits their all alone? Obviously not! But yet another hybrid is born expanding our array of colors once again. Adding to the illustrious rainbow of a way of life for many. It is no different than Mother nature's evolution of our planet and its inhabitants. Constantly in motion. Growing, changing, EVOLVING. How wonderful. HOWEVER, something almost always comes along to try and hamper the growth. It resonates through the community touching and infecting all that live in it. It betrays us all and infaspects the very things that make it so unique. Trust quickly dissipates as the intrusion spreads like wildfire burning all that fall within its path. Leaving behind scorched emotions, lack of trust or belief. Like that fiery fire is what I call, "50 Shades Of Wannabees". It's compromised of those who watched or read this crossover book or movie of a kinkier version of "Pretty Woman". A rich man who takes over a lower class woman's mind and bends her into his submissive. Suddenly like the herd of Buffalo, that once roamed this nation, a stampede of kinksters charge into our community. There is no understanding that there is SO much more than physical ownership of a sub or slave. It is a psychological game of Stratego that has been played by the partners gaining command of the others headspace. That headspace contains all the emotions, physical desires, dreams, fantasies, psychological manifestations of childhood yearnings, etc. All rolled up into one area waiting to be examined and absorbed by someone who can understand them and nurture them to fruition. A Bach of the composer world who takes them and turns them into beautiful music that all can hear. The manifestation of the hidden minds collective emotional desires and needs now controlling the physical form like the captive they once were. With this weapon in hand the dominant hunter has captured his prey. He cages and controls it by holding its heart tightly against his chest in his protective arms so no harm will come to it. The chase was long. The chase took many paths that one had to avoid straying from and getting lost. So when finally navigating it and finding that pot of gold at the end it is treasured as the greatest possession owned. It's capture was earned and not stolen. I can't help but look at these wannabees as nothing more than and invasive army made up of decisions or narcissistic grandure. Their need to feel powerful and fulfill their cardinal desires of physical pleasure and loneliness taken by force. No understanding of how the lifestyle works because they have no desire to learn it. Whips spinning in the air, shouts of demands and orders barking, physically overpowering of their prey is all they understand. I am a MASTER they proclaim to all as they dangle bait in hopes of luring a potential pacifistic creature. No you are NOT A MASTER, the knowledgeable citizens say. YOU ARE JUST A BULLY! A bully fueled by your narcissistic desires of ownership over another that you expect to force to serve you for your pleasure and your pleasure alone. You and your wants are all that matters and the emotions of the server are forced into exile.

December 9,2023 - Coaches first visit       First visit with "The Coach" today. I'm not sure, but I think the Coach is the closest thing to a completely straight guy that I've had visit me in a quite a while.   I seem to attract the bisexual guys who are dominant in their work but desire to be submissive to another male. And I think that was the case today.   Coach and I messaged on FetLife for a while, determining what he wanted and what his limits were. Then we set up a time for his first visit. It was going to be just after he had coached a game, so I was sure he would have a good mix of testosterone and adrenaline for his first visit.   The time wasn't exact since he didn't know when the game would finish. Around the time expected, he messaged me to let me know he was going to be on his way soon. I kicked back and watched some porn until his arrival.   Being his first visit, I met him in the driveway so he knew he had the correct house. I was wearing my long brown hooded bathrobe. His mind was probably already racing wondering what, if anything, that I was wearing under the housecoat.   We came inside and took a seat and instructed him to strip. As we had previously discussed as he stripped each article of clothing off he folded them neatly by his shoes next to the door.   He had a nice physique and I knew we were going to be having some fun. He was wearing a small cock cage. It appeared he was already straining against it. I remembered that I had instructed him to wear the cock cage during the game. I didn't verify if he has followed directions, or had put it on after the game. I walked over to the couch and grabbed two velcro wrist restraints. I grabbed one of his wrists and extended his arm and attached the velcros cuff. Then the other wrist, as I wrapped the velcro restraint making sure both cuffs were secured around his wrists. Then I retrieved a dog collar from the couch and put it around his neck. This at first, but then I loosened it a notch or two so it was fairly loose. I had plans, and wanted it a bit loose, almost comfortable. But I wanted him to remember, while he was here, he was property. A sub for my use.   Although I had warmed the house a bit, as I wrapped my arms around him from behind him and played with his nipples, I felt him quiver. I'm sure it was a combination of fear and anticipation causing him to quiver, not the temperature of the room.   Normally and make notes when someone leaves, but during today's visit I forgot. So my memory might not be 100% accurate on our activities since I'm writing this story over a week later.   Normally at this point, I sit back in my rocking chair and have they guy suck my cock for a while, but I remember that didn't happen today. And honestly, I don't remember why. Either something we had talked about, or something in my mind cause me to change things and we headed straight upstairs.   When we got up to the bedroom stripped the bathroom off. I was completely naked. I laid back on the bed and told him to come over between my legs and suck my cock. Without hesitation he climbed on the bed and latched on to my cock.   Although one part of me thinks that he is 99% straight, good Lord was he a great cocksucker. It makes me wonder if I'm correct or not. But during the conversations on Fetlife, that was the impression I had. But now that his mouth was on my cock, I was questioning my assumption.   I'm not sure what the hell he was doing with his tongue on my cock but it was incredible. Something about the combination of sucking and swirling and licking at the same time was great. In fact, it was too good. It had been a week or so since I had hooked up with someone and this felt so good, I felt that I could orgasm at any moment. So I told him to lick my balls.   Although I enjoy having a guy lick my balls, in this case the main reason I was having him lick my balls was to prevent me from having an orgasm. How sad would it be for him to arrive and not more than 5 or 10 minutes later have an orgasm and send him on his way.   So he licked at my balls for a while as I raised my right leg putting my knee in the air to give him greater access to my balls and taint. He was good at that also, but not as good as his cock sucking skills. Soon using both of my hands on the sides of his head, I lifted him off my balls and lowered him onto my cock again. The feeling was sensational. I just remembered that I kept murmuring, "oh fuck, oh fuck that feels great."   I grabbed his head and started pushing him deeper onto my cock. He gagged which made me chuckle. I think I growled something like, "oh yeah choke on Daddy's cock."   Part of the time I watched him bob up and down on my cock, part of the time I just threw my own head back enjoying the moment. I looked down and could see his cute bubble butt over his shoulders which only made my cock harder. I was planning to fuck that ass before he left tonight.   I wrapped my right leg over his shoulder onto his back. That just pulled him down onto my cock a bit more. With my hands on the back of his head and my right leg over his back I could force him onto my cock until his chin rubbed my balls. He was choking on my cock, completely under my control, completely submissive, doing exactly what I was telling him to do. I was giving him the fantasy that he was wanting.   I remember being quite verbal that day. Repeatedly calling him… daddy's little cocksucker, calling him… a good little fagot, but at the same time rewarding him by telling him what a good job he was doing sucking cock. Each time he choked I would give him a compliment like, "good Boyyyyyyyy" dragging the work out like I was rewarding a family dog. I watched as his head continued to bob up and down on my cock.   He would deep throat my cock until it was all the way in the back of his throat, then he would pull almost completely off and suck hard on just the head of my cock, swirling his tongue around, poking his tongue in my piss slit, then go back to deepthroating and choking again.   But now I had reached my threshold of my orgasm. If I can keep from orgasming past the first 5 or 10 minutes, I'm usually good for an hour. I'm not quite sure what that is, but once I passed that 10 minute mark I'm good for a while. And at this point, I was past my mark.   I started getting a little more rough with him. I reached down and grab the collar and gave it a bit of a twist, tightening it on his neck. Simultaneously I pulled the collar down, pulling him onto my cock. This did a bit of breath control, or breath restriction, while he continued to suck my cock.   I kept the color twisted until his body language was telling me he was at his limit on breath control. So I released the collar and I just laid back on the bed enjoying whatever in the fuck he was doing with his tongue. Oh my God, it was incredible.   I remember him repositioning himself, I think to get up on his elbows a bit. He slid his hands under my legs almost cupping my butt cheeks whereas before they had been on top of my legs, his forearms almost resting on my chest toward my nipples. Now that his upper arms were under my legs, I took the advantage and raised both of my legs onto his back. I crossed my legs locking them and behind his back squeezed his head between my legs.   With my hands, I forced him deep onto my cock. Then I tightened the squeeze of my legs holding him in place. No longer

I was in Dallas so I contacted this bitch man I met on Collarspace. He was happy to come to my hotel, buy me dinner and a beer and go up to my room for a good facefucking. He was big, fat and out of shape, as I ate I asked him questions, and was timid and respectful and always good to call me Sir. I learned about his lack of sex life and what led him to want to suck cock so bad he would met a stranger and submit. He was smart and articulate but, as most unaware of why they want this. His nipples jutted through his shirt as we talked. I let him know his bitch tits would suffer soon. He was excited to know. As we went up to my room I made him stand with his nose in the corner of the elevator. It was going to be a fun night.    

COVID hit our community hard, and I have a few slave friends that lost their Masters.With no continuity plan in place, it is difficult for a slave. This, the House, helps address that. And it is a passion project for Myself. A way of giving back to a community that has altered My life for the better. On a personal egoic level, of course it is nice to be the Master of the House. But, it also is structured to survive My own passing and continue to care for its members. It is pan sexual in nature and can be grouped in different houses, gay, lesbian, trans, etc. as well as professional, career, orientation. There are a lot of moving parts to this. .... That said, the question is does one wish to be part of something bigger than itself. And to be owned and serve.you will be required to contribute to the home by being able to support yourself. It is a self sustaining operation.As a Master, My responsibility is to provide structure and an opportunity for the slave to serve and to be owned. Its primary service is to the Master, then its brothers and sisters, and then the House as a whole.That is what this Master offers all who come.

Friendship and Love:    In the heart of a loyal friend, a storm brews deep, As his best friend and ex-lover begin to keep Company in a way that cuts like a knife, Leaving him wrestling with anguish and strife.   The dog, his companion through thick and through thin, Now seems to conspire in this tangled spin, For the one he once loved, who was his trusted guide, Now walks hand in hand with his loyal friend by her side.   Betrayal stings sharp, like a treacherous dart, As the bond of camaraderie tears apart, His confidant, once faithful, now seems so untrue, Leaving him lost in a world askew.   Yet through the pain, a silver lining gleams, For in the depths, friendship's resilience teems, As time soothes wounds and tempers the ache, He finds solace in the bond they all forsake.   For a man's best friend and his ex in their tether, Cannot shake the bond that they share together, But in forgiveness and grace, he'll find his own mend, For in the end, true loyalty will transcend.

  Hooded, cuffed, naked to the waist,  he smelled the car, heard the sounds of the engine cooling. Her smell, that too mingled with the smell of fear in his leather clad nostrils.     The door to the entrance of the townhouse was one step up and forward. By grabbing his belt and firmly tugging, she lead him up the step. His shoes stumbled, explored and found their footing.  Softly, with a definite and solid thud, the door closed behind him. The metallic click of the door lock was unmistakable.   An anti room perhaps. Mud room? Laundry room? Utility room?   The floor was ceramic tile. He realized it when she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. Without any word of command or explanation, he felt his trousers and shorts pushed to his ankles. He imagined her face near his naked crotch as he felt her gripping his leg and intuitively understood she wanted his shoes off and one leg at a time his trousers were gone. Through his socks, he felt the cold hard tile.   He almost lost his balance and fell when he felt her hair brush his inner thigh as she stood up.   He felt himself shiver in the coolness of the room but trickles of sweat ran down each side of his torso from under his armpits.   Suddenly he had the urge to pee. How would he make her understand? Unconsciously he began to dance that childish dance of holding back the yellow stream.

I've been asked many times over the years, what is the difference between a submissive and a slave? One could say, by common definition, that is submissive, gives up control, but only within the constraints of the bedroom. The submissive can set limits, boundaries and more. So, it's not truly giving up control, but they giving up of limited control within certain areas, usually limited to strictly sexual. The slave, on the other hand, gives up all control at all times, both within and outside the bedroom. Her limits may be observed by her or his master or mistress. But, they don't have to be. Furthermore, giving up of control usually applies to all areas of life, not just strictly sexual. Still, that can be seen as a rather limited definition. if one truly wants to defined the difference between the two, it boils down to this. A submissive will give up control within the parameters of still satisfying her needs, wants and desires. A slave is able to sublimate her own needs, in order to put the needs of someone else before her own at all times. That's the big difference. A submissive may give up control, even total control, but only within the duration of a scene, or a particular situation. A slave not only gives up control, but puts the needs of her master before her own at all times. A submissive can always say, "Not tonight. I'm not feeling up to it." A slave has no such options. Her place and purpose is to put the needs and wants of her Master ahead of her own, and if Master decides that he wants to use his slave, it's her place as a slave to meet and even exceed his expectations. The problem is, with so many, having been raised with this being either fantasy or online role-play, combined with the Tinder culture expectation of "If this doesn't amuse me, I can just ghost him." It's becoming increasingly difficult to find those that truly have a slave mentality. So, those of you who are putting yourself out there as slaves, make sure that you understand the difference between submissives and slaves. Not only for your own benefit, but for the benefit of others as well. That way, no one's time is wasted, not expectations dashed and you'll be more successful at finding what it is you're truly looking for.

Hi there, I'm a 26-year-old submissive bi-sexual girly woman who is into BDSM. I'm currently looking for a long-term live-in relationship with someone who shares my interests and desires.   As a naturally submissive woman, I am eager to explore and learn about the dynamics of a submissive-dominate relationship. I am interested in experiencing the various ects of BDSM and exploring my own limits in a safe and respectful manner.   Ideally, I'm looking for a partner who is also bi-sexual and open to a polyamorous relationship. I believe in open and honest communication, and I value trust and respect above all else in a relationship.   When it comes to my dressing style, I love to wear feminine and flirty outfits that accentuate my curves. I'm a big fan of dresses, skirts, and high heels. I enjoy experimenting with different colors, patterns, and textures to create a unique and eye-catching look.   In terms of shoes, I have a particular fondness for high heels. I love the way they make me feel, and I find them to be both elegant and sexy. I have quite a collection of heels in different styles and colors, ranging from classic pumps to strappy sandals to chunky platform heels.   Of course, I also have a variety of other shoes for different occasions, such as flats, boots, and sneakers. But when it comes to dressing up, you can usually find me in a pair of sky-high heels that make me feel confident and glamorous.   As a submissive girl, I have had a range of experiences exploring my submissive side in BDSM relationships. I find that submitting to a dominant partner allows me to let go of control and experience a deep sense of trust and surrender.   In my previous relationships, I have explored a variety of BDSM practices, such as bondage, impact play, and power exchange dynamics. I enjoy experimenting with new techniques and pushing my limits in a safe and consensual way.   I have found that communication and trust are essential components of a healthy and fulfilling BDSM relationship. Open and honest communication allows me to express my desires and limits, while trust enables me to fully surrender to my dominant partner.   Overall, my experience as a submissive girl has been both challenging and rewarding. It has allowed me to explore new ects of my sexuality and develop a deeper understanding of my own desires and boundaries.   If you're interested in getting to know me and exploring our shared interests together, please feel free to connect with me. I'm excited to see where this journey takes us!  

When fantasy meets reality, some men find themselves lost in the space between what they imagine and what truly exists. In a world filled with movies, games, social media, and idealized images, it becomes easy to mistake fantasy for attainable truth. They may chase unrealistic versions of women, power, or status, forgetting that real life is imperfect, complex, and grounded in responsibility. When the line between fantasy and reality fades , disappointment, frustration, and confusion often follow. Learning to see life as it is—not as we wish it to be—takes maturity and self-awareness. True strength lies in facing reality head-on, appreciating genuine experiences over illusions, and building a life that is real, not imagined. Men...you need to do better.       

Hello to the Newbies, Lifers, Kinksters, and PowerPlay People, This was my favorite place to blog.  When it was bought and they made it hard to post in your profile and changes required a wait to be approved, which went on for part of a year, I left. My life has been moving and doing since I was last on here often posting my thoughts.  I still have saved the oiriginal posts I put in my profile.   Some of it was some interesting shit I don't want to rewrite for a podcast or a book. We are all here to be open, open on the inside and with many hiding their outside with masks and fetish wear..lmao  but open still.  Wide open aren't you, you cumsluts. To the Men who are just kinksters and here for sex primarily, most of you don't interest me in the least.   I am born a naturally Dominant/Alpha and even in my vanilla life I am the one in charge.  Period.  If you are not able to submit without worrying about sex and orgasms, if you need to act up to be punished, you are not of interest to me.   My interests include spending a LOT of my time painting, writing and getting an art business up and running so I am independant and no longer on SSI after breast cancer.   One of the things I dealt with in my time away from here. I am a computer geek, with two pitbulls, art supplies for several businesses, and I am home with a great garden and mobile home spot I will sell in a few years.  Someone who wants to create art or go tech and work on websites, social media for stores, etc. or a good dog person, house cleaner who has a great vocabulary fits my lifestyle.  Lots of free time to learn and improve your own life is a good fit as well. My life has included fantastic sex, better than yours in most cases.  I prefer to wait to have a superior time than fuck someone not worth a dime.   I am getting shit fixed in my life before I care about a sex partner.    My sex type is not the same as my companion type, unless you are a computer geek with a great smile, abs, ass and eyes....lmao    Let life roll and have fun, Lola the Iron Mistress

Chastity Chastity strictly speaking is a state of being. The connotation is concerned with purity. In olden times a chaste person was assumed to be free form venereal disease. Further it was thought that person would also have certain character attributes. That their thinking was free of prurient interest was a major attribute. In other terms they did not sexualize things or people. An individual in locked in a chastity device without orgasm will over time gain the same state of innocence. So yes, My slave property will be kept in chastity. Once this state is entered the slave will find a peace and contentment it may not have recollection of ever entering in its past existence. For some, it will be a state of serenity. Will I allow slaves to live continuously in such bliss? Not likely. This state of being occurs over time in males after castration. This return to the innocence of prepuberty is the basis for My considering chastity as a form of castration if but temporary and reversible. Interestingly, if a chastised individual is allowed the pleasure of orgasm and ejaculation it will, over time, return to the sexually obsessed state it may have had prior to the period of denial. This phenomenon marks one of the differences between castration and chastity. The period of time differs from one to another. My experience indicates about six months. Freeing a slave from whatever sex centered ideation it may have leaves its brain available for service to its Superior Owner. This, of course, is a desirable thing. Therefore, most all of My slave property will be locked in chastity. slave’s period of denial, at least for the first couple of weeks, can be a grueling torturous event. Locking a slave’s cock in an inflexible irremovable cage will over time result in changes the Master finds most desirable. At least initially. Locked up some ‘male’ penises will try repeatedly and with marginal success to gain erection and relief for its swollen prostate. its mind will become fixated on sexual things and frustration. it may well experience actual pain and mental distress: true anguish. This period may last days or weeks. Sleep for a few nights may be very difficult. Nights will be spent awake, or semi so, with the sexual ideation and unfulfilled need for sexual release. The discomfort of the slave is one of many things that can bring pleasure to Me as a sadist. After the slave has served Me the blissful state of prepubescence I will start the whole process over again. Milking probably without orgasm will occur. A period of time will elapse with regular sexual release until its old way of thinking with its penis will be established. At some point in time after the establishment, the old chastity cage will be locked on it and it will start the delightful, at least delightful for Me, process over again. Yes, chastity will occur for female slave as well. Mechanically, with some differences as one might expect.  

  Instructions  You are instructed to answer your door wearing your shortest skirt and no under pants.  You can choose either a pushup bra or Bustier.  You need to find the best way to provide good access to your erect nipples.  High heels will be in order and a nice bright red lipstick.  Your fragrance should suggest you need serious examination.  Once inside we will continue with your assessment.  We need to determine what type of spanking suits you.  Your level of grooming will need attention.  You may have hair in places that needs to be removed or trimmed.  I will ask you to give me your tongue.  After your tongue is placed in my mouth I will begin inspecting your nipples with my fingers.  At first I will use gentle caressing pressure to make them stand up.  When your nipples are sufficiently hard I will begin to squeeze them and as long as you murmur enjoyment and pleasure your nipples will receive my attention.  Careful breast squeezing will further arouse your interest.  Perhaps some careful sucking, licking, and nibbling will begin providing your respectful encouragement is well received.  You will have a collar fitted and a short lead attached.  Naturally you will be led around to get a sense of how you walk in heels, how your hips and ass thrust up as you slowly move.  Your pheromones will now be tasted and their fragrance examined.  You will be directed to wet two of your fingers where you should now be wet and aroused.  Offering yourself and asking if more is needed will go a long way to establishing your further attention.  You will be directed to spread your legs so you can be inspected.  A little hair for decorative purposes is ok but too much around your labia will have to go.  Your hair will be trimmed with perhaps a stylish V created and the rest shaved off.  You have begun your journey and it’s time for you to dress for the adventure.  Do you have stockings and a sexy garter belt?  Well put them on.  I expect skimpy and sheer panties.  Your breasts should be supported and offered.  Makeup and fragrance needs to show how you want to be used and aroused.  Spanking is so critical to your excitement.  You love to be spanked but how is the question.  There are three basic spanking types; hand, paddle, and cane.  Which will make you lose your control and submit must be discovered.  Pulling on your lead you will be positioned on your knees.  Crossed slender wrists will be bound behind your back.  You will be instructed to position yourself on my lap.   I want to make sure you are comfortable and available.  I can detect your fragrance and increased breathing.  You know you want to be taken.  Instructions follow.  I will gr your hair and pull it back as you are vigorously spanked.  Naturally you will be aroused by the hair pulling and spanking.  You will have to count out the spanks and plead for harder or less so.  10 spanks will decide how you like your this treatment.  Now things are getting serious. After the hand spanking you will resume your kneeling position.  Have you ever worn a ball gag?  The sexist ect is the drool and you need to accept that you will drool when you’re gaged.  .You will be instructed to open you moth and the ball gag will be inserted.  Tying the ball gag in place behind your hair will set the scene.  A paddle will be applied to your ass.  You can ask for harder by nodding yes, begging for less by shaking no.You can continue with the way itis by just remaining still.  You will be gagged abd unable to speak but you can express your delight with groans, moans, squeals, and squeaks.  Perhaps hand spanking and paddling is enough to satisfy your masochistic desires for pain but if they're not enough then you'll be caned and marked. If caneing is the way to go for you, other arrangements will be necessary.  You will have your bonds released and be led over to a short table  Your wrists will be tired to the sides of the table.  Next your legs will be spread and tied to the legs of the table  You are now bent over the table and ready to receive the cane  Again you can try to control the severity with signals but you must understand you won't escape unmarked. Bent over the table, panting and waiting. I will toy your ass with my cane to let you get a feeling for what is to come. I will have to express my disappointment in having to abuse you in this fashion.  The caning will start and the count will be given.  You can try ro influce the intensity with signals and express your feelings with appropriate noises.  Whatever you do, you will receive 5 strokes.  Unless you beg for more. Which do you like best?  Does the hair pulling make you wet and weak?  Questions that are answered during your spanking assesment determine where things will go next Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE  

The concept of being Owned refers to a person who has surrendered themselves as the personal property or chattel of their Owner - Master or Mistress.   A submissive has usually given up their rights and freedom for their Owner to exercise authority over them within a relationship that may extend to full time, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.   The submissive has given up all limits except those which their Owner sets or has agreed for them.   From that point on obedience will always be expected first and foremost regardless of its personal feelings. 

Journal Update - November 2024 I'm Tara and I'm coming back to this site afgter having nearly given up on everything and being lost for a while. I am pre-op trans. I was on hormones, but the health scare I have took me off them for a while. I won't be able to recommence them until January 2025. If that's a problem for you I entirely understand.I've got a lot of kinky hobbies, one that some people know about me is that I have worn chastity since March 2020. I unlock once a week for shaving and cleaning. I switch between two very small devices which can go largely unnoticed under most of my wardrobe.I live 24/7 as a woman. I do have some real struggles with dysphoria, the person I see when I see myself in the mirror often doesn't match how I feel. I wish the NHS moved faster. I want to do this all right so am not taking shortcuts.I love, and I mean really LOVE bondage. Put me in cuffs and a collar and I will melt into submission. Over the next few weeks I think i am going to use the journal to share some of my past expereinces.Tara xox  

I have now collared and own NJ Slave1010. It worships me without exception and without question. I have erased most thoughts from its mind, so all it knows is worshipping me, adoring me, thinking about me. I have inserted certain words in its head. So when It reads them or hears them or says them Its’ slave worm, which is now mine, goes to instant erection in honor of me. Only I can grant what is now mine release, not it anymore. And it suffers deeply for me has declared its undying slave love to me.. If any other slaves would love to be my slave and fall deeply in love with me. writing slave love letters to me. Then you can contact me here. You will worship me, adore me, and obey me. I will also instill a bouffant and salon fetish in you where you worship the bouffant Women Having their hair styled in exotic, full, thick. Updo bouffant hairdos and rollers or under dryers like the goddesses they deserve to be. This also goes for CDs who are into this also, I would love to have you worship me getting your hair done in large exotic hairdos under dryers and in large rollers for me.

All set with game players and time wasters and dream killers.   I don't lie, cheat or steal. I am looking for the right slave.  Correction, I am looking for a right connection and a decent human being who knows how to treat a woman, and wants to explore together.  A right male is MORE THAN ENOUGH to be by My side and in reasonable good time.  I am looking for a live in relationship, not email, phone or text. I'm dominant and that isn't going to change.  I feel no threat from a man who knows his mind and has the ability to speak up for himself and be a team player.  Welcome.  We can co-rule our own little world together. My mother lives with Me and has Alzheimer's.  You serve Me, you serve She.  You are with Me, you are with her. Be real and ready to communicate effectively and get to know one another in the flesh.   Be terrific in your own right.  I require a man who is strong enough to champion Me and I offer nothing less in return.   DON'T WASTE  MY  TIME.  

What I am looking for Part 2: Apparently it wouldn't all fit in 1 journal entry....go figure...   My masocistic side is weird. I am not a masochist in the every day sense that I crave pain all the time or that it gets me off. It fucking hurts. However, pain for me is a means of catharsis and for me to be able to process emotion as I have a terrible habit of just bottling it up instead of expressing it in the moment. The pain allows me to release all of that. My masochistic side is also very largely dependent upon the energy between my partner and me. I can take more and play heavier if the energy is right, compared to if it is not, then I may choose to not even play with them. This wouldn't be so much of an issue as I would not enter a relationship with someone who intended to play with me if the energy was not right for this to occur. That also being said, I have a few play partners in FL that I adore and trust more than anything. Whomever would be considering owning me would have to be okay with this fact and open to me being able to play with others. Obviously introductions would happen, but these are people I know I have a great energy transfer with and I have known for years. The same as I would be open to my partner playing with others, I would hope to garner the same respect as he would be more than welcome to be present if he was not comfortable with me playing alone. I do want someone I am slightly afraid of that I know could hurt me/kill me if they chose to, but who has enough knowledge and restraint to not. I find knowing that the person I am with can inflict pain in punishment in a meaningful way, I am less likely to get out of line.   I love to travel and have a huge gypsy soul and feel wanderlust almost constantly. I would need to be with someone who is open to travelling and taking road trips. I love cruises and just going to new places and doing touristy things.   Lastly, I do have a slight brat/baby girl side. The baby girl side is more when I am just completely content in a relationship and is my more 'squirrel' and giggly/giddy side. I do like watching Disney movies and I like being cute and sappy and doing romantic things. I enjoy theme parks and will want to walk in every candy/toy/souvenier store there is, even if I don't buy anything in any of them. I love to be silly and just be able to relax completely about my Sir. If I am serious all the time, there is probably something wrong or I am not comfortable/happy. This should be noted, but I do expect this person to be not only my Sir, but also my lover and life partner. I do want love/passion/romance in the relationship.   Did you make it this far? Great! Now, bare in mind that this is not EVERYTHING, but is I feel a really good starting point for someone to understand why what I am looking for is so difficult to find. Do I know that I am likely to not find a person who fits into all of this? Yes, but that doesn't mean I am going to lower my standards to find someone who fits only a couple of the categories. They are all equally important to me, so I refuse to pick and choose which ones are met.   I will update this and elaborate more on things as I think about them, but hopefully this can give at least a semblance of an idea.

Collarspace guidelines prohibit "trans exclusionary hate speech, consensual non-consensent, things which are unlawful, othering, culturally insensitive or hurtful". This and similar is common across social media. It's as if PC Principal has invaded and occupied our online spaces: https://youtu.be/Vvc1nxlJb-o?si=Jn3aS5FR-HX_E-8F

    The Guest House This being human is a guest house.Every morning a new arrival.   A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comesas an unexpected visitor.   Welcome and entertain them all!Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,who violently sweep your houseempty of its furniture,still, treat each guest honorably.He may be clearing you outfor some new delight.   The dark thought, the shame, the malice,meet them at the door laughing,and invite them in.   Be grateful for whoever comes,because each has been sent by a guide above. 

Guys be like, “men are visual creatures.” Ok sir, than why do you look like that? Maybe a lotta fellas don’t have mirrors at home. I had to be honest with a male- co worker yesterday and explain to him that a lotta times the women THEY WANT, that don’t want them, might not be due to their financial status. A lotta times us women might not find you physically attractive (men never wanna consider this). Although your grandma and momma been telling you how handsome you are your whole life (they’re supposed to BTW) That doesn’t mean that women who you cross paths with on a daily basis look at you and think,“yea, I’d like to feel his penis inside of me, or be romantically involved with him”. This explains why it’s some not financially stable men that stay with a fine ass Boss Chick. Some men can get outta prison Tamar and be living with lawyer in her water-front condo & driving her Benz truck within a week. Women probably look at him and immediately get the, “oooouuuu shit affect” aka “a lady boner”. Believe it or not us women see fine ass men and can get erect too. Women’s erectile response is similar to men’s. Except internally, our clitoris swells like a penis. Our vagina’s become lubricated and expand in length and width. Some of you just don’t have the panty dropper affect on the women “YOU WANT”  As much as they talk about women, Many men haven’t kept themselves up. They don’t work out so they’re shaped like a bag of laundry, AND MY GOSH WHEN THE LAST TIME SOME YOU HAD A DENTAL EXAM?? And overtime this has disqualified them from the free coochie list. I know it’s hard to hear, but for some of you…THE WOMEN YOU DESIRE, don’t look at you and wanna F***.

Thank you for reading And thank you for your time I promise not to waste yours I tend to value mine Poetry’s enticing Prose can add a spark Pretty sets of words betray what's in their author’s heart Art is also obfuscated fleeting and opaque Maybe not the ideal way to tell of what I'm made Doubtless you'll have questions those who enjoy this jest Feel free to message me and get them off your chest Keep in mind that I don't know you and that you don't yet own me We owe one another mutual courtesy  

New Kink Unlocked! She told me on the phone... You invite me in and walk me back to your bedroom. You order me to strip and to get on the bed in a doggy position. You are still clothed and slide a blindfold over my eyes. I can hear the shuffle of clothes as you disrobe and feel your weight shift on the bed behind me. Your fingers slide between my legs and can feel how wet the anticipation has made me. And then I gasp as you slide the length of your cock into my pussy, feeling your size for the first time. It has been quite a while since I was last with anyone and you are surprised by how tight I am. You grab my hips and begin fucking me from behind. You tell me that I am just a dirty cum dump and that my only job to take the fucking you feel like giving me. Your rhythm quickens and I can feel you filling me with your cum. But you don't pull out, and I feel your hands spreading my ass cheeks apart. You feel my pussy twitch as you rub my asshole with your thumb. You tell me another part of being your dirty cum dump is to take your cock in every hole. You tell me that you are going to fuck me in the ass and that I'm going to take your load there as well. You squeeze some lube on me and begin working in your finger to prep the hole. You ask me where your cock is going and I tell you "my ass sir." You "And why is it going into your ass?" Me "Because I'm your cum dump and my job is to take you cock in any hole you choose." Your cock has gotten hard again inside me and your fingers have lubed up my hole. You pull your cock out and I then feel your head pressing against my asshole. You lean your weight forward and over me, whispering in my ear to relax and take it as you slowly slide your full length into me. I feel so full and the size of you initially feels impossibly large. You give me a couple second to adjust to your size before you start a slow, gentle rhythm. You feel feel my body accept your and tell me "I'm going to fuck you faster now," and I feel a spike of nervousness as I already feel pushed to my limit of intensity. You are fucking me a bit harder and tell me that I'm doing a good job taking your cock so you are going to give me an orgasm. One hand reaches below me and starts playing with my clit... palm pressing perfecrly. The other hand reaches around and finds a nipple to pinch and squeeze. Your touch sends me over the edge, forcing me to cum hard on your cock. You cum as well, my orgasm essentially milking your load from your cock. You tell me I was a good cum dump and did my job well. I love it when you praise me for being a good toy. You roll me to my side and your mouth finds my tit as you finger me again with your fingers. You have me keep the blindfold on as we cuddle for a bit. Then I clean you and get ready for bed... wanting to sleep in your arms... but also thinking, worrying? wishing? you will take me in the middle of the night.

I've been following the discussion about the idea behind sexuality, gender roles, and gender of the Gods as it relates to those who worship the spirit of nature. One thing that need to be clear is that when it comes to the spirit world according to most religious traditions (paganism included) gender is a characteristic of the physical world. Granted that we all conceive the divine according to cultural patterns that shapes our understanding of what and how the Gods relate to this world. One important characteristic comes from the way we choose to relate and express intimacy with each other and by extension to the divine. If we assume that the divine realm is an ever present reality then when we perform any duty or activity they are infused with that numinous quality that elevates everything to the realm of perfection. Having said that, our sexuality which is as they say "an accident of the flesh" attract the Gods as a way of communing and partaking of that that is universal.  I we establish a divine relationship with the God of nature let's then look at nature to guide us in ascertain the true nature of the God. In nature the diverse ways in which sexuality is expressed provides a canvas to see that the God is at times active, at times passive, and at times neither.   Male to male sex is a show of strength on a different power stream. One partner is the guiding energy and  and the other is the guided energy. Both partake of the divine order of things. So that was divided becomes one in the union of both forces mating. Who is then the divine? Both are because the God moves freely from the phallus to the receiving vessel and back uniting what was broken into a divine whole. The idea of Top or Bottom is foreign to divine; love and bliss is its true nature. Unity is the key to that that makes us human, sex and fulfillment. Then the God is neither a Top or a Bottom he becomes what his lover wants him to be at that glorious moment in which orgasm elevates our humanity to the realm of eternity.

Feeling my arms getting locked tightly behind my back with leather straps. Wrists first, then my elbows. Bit by bit loosing more and more freedom.. I revel in the feeling of slowly having my freedom stripped away. That moment when realization strikes that I'm truly caught and defenseless. Completely at the mercy of another... Just thinking about it is enough to make my heart go BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!  

It was a mixture of arousal, curiosity and his final reassurance that made her mind up. She knew she could say ‘Stop’ and he would, though that could be permanent, it was an instinctive decision that made her move towards the lift and later she realised why she made it. There was a logical progression to it. She was a stubborn person with a rebellious streak and a free will who made her own decisions and didn’t blame others when they went awry. Here she was reigning in her rebellious streak of her own free will and her natural instincts reinforced this. Her stubbornness would make her comply with what she wanted in this regard, even though it seemed counterintuitive.  Now it was a rush to the receptionist’s desk to get a pen, the envelope was already open and had the room number written on it. The contract was one piece of A4 paper and the male receptionist must have seen the bold type headline which stated ‘SUBMISSIVE’S CONTRACT’. She didn’t have time to read it all, her instinct told her that he would not put anything in it that he had not said. And what would be the point as it was a symbolic act, not a contract that could be legally enforced.  She hurried the short distance to the lift; the concierge seemed to have anticipated her need and he had pressed the button, she momentarily wondered if he knew. Once inside she selected the 4th floor. Her heart missed a beat when just before the doors closed a woman stepped into the lift causing the doors to recycle again and they selected the 3rd floor; she knew this would delay her further. She willed the lift to move faster but still almost in two minds about what she was doing, but she wanted to be the decision-maker on this and not subject to an arbitrary cut off due to time. Her pride ensured she used the time to check her hair and lipstick in the mirror as she would not countenance the thought he would not find her attractive.  The lift reached the 4th floor and according to the large sign room 417 was to the right, she almost ran, nearly tripping over her heels on the thick carpet.  The door to room 417 was slightly ajar, and a ‘do not disturb’ sign was hanging on the handle. She stood for a second or two to let her breathing steady, it seemed to take ages for her hand to travel from to the door, her knock was timid and her stomach almost jumped as she heard the noise her hand made.  A firm reply was forthcoming a few seconds later. ‘Come in Joanna’. She swallowed, took a deep breath and gripping the envelope, pushed the door open and whilst trying to look calm she stepped inside and the door closed with an almost imperceptible click.  The room was warm and gently lit from the lamp above the desk he was sitting at. His jacket was over the back of his chair and the few papers he was attending too were lying about.  Nonplussed for a moment she stood there waiting for some sort of guidance, she knew what she had to do but some sort of signal from him seemed essential.  He understood, or knew, and stood before quietly saying, ‘Come here Joanna’. It was about 4 steps and he stood almost impassively as she greeted him properly. Her arms went around his waist and she pressed herself against him until he said that she could stop. This time it seemed natural and gave a moment when she could do something that seemed familiar and that she was in control of. It also served to break some of her tension before she stepped back ready to kneel. Kneeling seemed a strange and almost alien act; she had been on her knees in front of a man before, but then she was in control of him, she forcibly overcame her rebellious streak and found it disappeared almost entirely.  Her eyes cast down she noticed her knees were together, it seemed inappropriate so she moved them further apart. Taking a larger breath she looked down at his feet and with the envelope in both hands, she held it up to him.  He didn’t seem to move for ages, and then he took it from her hands. He checked her signature was on the contract before placing it amongst the other papers on the desk. This was a small action, however, it made her realise that she had voluntarily signed this part of herself over to him. He had taken possession and she was now his.  He turned the chair to face her and sat on it.  She was on her knees only a few feet from a man she had just given her submission to in writing, she was no longer so nervous, it was now anticipation mixed with exhilaration and her senses were alive! She was now free to be what he decided. He leant forward and lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look him in the eyes, ‘Joanna, you are now mine’ he said quietly.  After a pause during which he just looked at her he then continued ‘The photography will wait until tomorrow as there are a few matters from earlier today I will address straight away.’ He wasn’t asking for a reply, he told her to stand and rest her elbows on the desk. She was a little taken aback, whilst earlier considering what might happen this evening she thought he might just photograph her. In a way that would be easier to contemplate, she could understand it would be a reasonable first private meeting, however, she knew it would disappoint her.  But now he was going to ‘Address some matters’ and that sounded ominous, it made the butterflies in her stomach come alive again. She did as asked, putting her elbows on the desk. He told her to arch her spine downwards, this meant she was bent over much further than she felt comfortable, it made her bottom more pronounced and her skirt was tighter. Her knees flexed as she tried to contain the nerves generated by her bottom being so vulnerable, he ordered her to straighten her legs and keep them so, as it tightened the skin of her buttocks. What he did next was unexpected, he ran his fingers around her neck gathering her hair into his hand at the nape of her neck. He expertly wound it into a ponytail using a band that must have been around his wrist. She now felt even more vulnerable without the usual shield of hair that would normally surround her face. She nervously moved her weight from one foot to another. He told her to spread her legs wider to shoulder width. She glanced up into the mirror above the desk; she could see him standing a few meters behind her, looking at her in a way few men had done. It was not simple lust, his face was almost impassive, she could see he was comfortable looking at the salacious view she presented.  His voice was calm as he told her that she had been disobedient when she broke away from the greeting before she had been told she could, she had also been demanding in their early email exchanges. For these, she was going to have her bottom spanked, he said it would be a ‘cumulative dozen’ and if she made any of these mistakes again it would be a stricter punishment.  He told her to raise her skirt over her back, this unnerved her more, it was one thing to have her skirt lifted, but another to do it herself! She thought she could not, but his curt statement of ‘disobey and I will use a strap instead of my hand’ encouraged her. She rested her forehead on the desk and reaching behind her with both hands she lifted the hem of her skirt until it lay over her back. He then described the view he had of her bottom in very basic language. His description of the way her swollen sex lips bulged into her panties was particularly crude and said with distinctive pleasure.  A short while later he moved to her left side. He reached over her back and pulled her right hip towards him, holding her still by trapping her against his thigh.

FFS people! READ profiles before contacting someone! Yes, my profile lists me as a switch, but that does not mean I want to do anything and everything with everyone. I am looking for a male dominant, and a female slave. I am NOT looking for a male sub for anything other than maybe domestic, manual labour. I am NOT interested in a sissy, CD/TV (unless they fit the aforementioned manual labour bill), FLR, or any form of meaningful "relationship" with a submissive male. As noted in my profile here, my blog profile lists EVERYTHING I am seeking in great detail. READ IT!

I love the Q&A moment after wild sex. My new guest pulling out his cigerette in my bed and asking thoose tender questions. Why are you into asphyxiation? You don't look the type to enjoy anal play? Is there a type - is always my response. Appreciating that this guest brought properly fitting condoms and wine but cared to bring another bottle as a gift is in fact a gift, makes a change from the Greek. This one cooks, appreicates I live in a small space but he orientates very quickly and enjoys sticking on the radio to hear the football but tender enough to ask what else do I sexually enjoy. Will be spending the day removing the santorum stain off my duvet cover, thank god for baking soda. Openly dating is very fun.

Face to face - A work of fiction. (by me) The door bell chimed, he took one step back composed himself and took three deep breaths. The Square of frosted glass lit orange and he heard footsteps approaching. He swallowed. They had met online some couple of months previous and instantly liked each other . He appealed to her sensually dominant side, she wanted to respect and enjoy the men in her life . She also wanted to pull them closer, to wrap them around her little finger. She appealed to his submissive. The little boy inside who craved that guidance. The worshipful serf in need of his Queen. They both wanted to fall in love. One final breath and the door was open. The masculine and feminine greetings crossed through the silence between the two and they embraced there on the front step almost immediately. It was warm and familiar to both and both felt a charge. He felt like he was drinking her in. The scent from her hair, her neck, her clothes all combined and rushed to his stomach. She knew that he meant this embrace, she felt his passion and new that she had him, if she wanted him. She broke off first and pecked him on the cheek. Very lovely to finally meet you, you smell very nice. Come in and shut the door behind you. Yes Ma'am He responded. They had agreed on this title some time back but saying it out loud now made it real. She liked the sound of it from him. He liked saying it to her. You brought wine I see, thank you, go through to the left and take a seat and I'll bring us some glasses. Make yourself comfortable. He watched her turn and leave and she felt him watching and it felt right to both. They sat and they talked like old friends catching up yet one friend had developed a crush on the other and the other knew it. She found him charming and charismatic. He had a shine and a passion that she liked. He found her alluring and intriguing. She had a presence and grace that he loved. Should I open another bottle do you think? Entirely up to you Ma'am. I am enjoying myself but it is getting late He looked at the clock, the time had gone sweetly by for both. Nonsense. I want another. Go to the kitchen for me, there's a bottle on the table. Pour us a couple of fresh glasses and relax,there's just something I need to do in my office, I'll be 10 minutes or so Yes Ma'am He waited and gathered his tipsy thoughts. He was glad of this time to tether his excitement a little. Don't blow it, he told himself. This block of time was the longest for him by a long way this night. She returned and broke the wicked spell, walked over to wear he was sat, handed him a sheet of paper still slightly warm from the printer, took her glass of wine and walked away. I'll be upstairs She said just before she left the room. He pulled his eyes from the empty space that she left and looked at the document in his hand. Here is how I want it to be. It read I want you to be exclusive and loyal to me and not me to you. I might be but I don't have to be. If you agree sign your name here -> He took the pen from his shirt pocket instinctively and clicked it open. He paused and read on. Until I decide otherwise every other time we meet will be a vanilla date with no sex. I want a friend as well as a submissive. Sign here -> His face was red from the wine and the heat of what he was reading. Is this real? His thoughts were escaping him. You hand over control of your orgasms for me off the bat. This is none negotiable. Sign here -> He felt the acute energy in his groin and in his belly. He could hear his heart in his head. You are in competition with two other potentials. I may keep you all or none of you. You need to impress me. Sign here -> A game, it's just a game, he told himself Your safeword is TORONTO. Sign here -> He smiled widely at this and felt a certain lightness come over him. He had told her that this was one of his favourite places he had lived previously, that he always thought about that city and what it gave him whenever he doubted himself or felt too blue. It was a gentle thing for her to use that, he thought. A true gesture of sorts. If you sign all of the above then we can proceed. If you sign all of the above, remove your clothes, roll up this letter and crawl up the stairs with it in your mouth. You will see only one door open, crawl to it and ask for permission to enter. If you don't sign all of the above then sleep on the couch until the morning and we will talk about it. He read it all through again and then again and then he signed and then he took off his clothes. She lay and drank her wine and watched the doorway from her bed. Permission to enter Ma'am. Yes come in. The masculine and feminine mixing and twisting this time. Close the door behind you and crawl to my side here. Let me see what that is in your mouth. He turned on all fours to close the door. She watched him. He felt her watch him. She knew. He knew. The End.

So it crops it's head up again, and I feel the need to address it head on.  My profile states that I am only interested in someone who is local. Yet I continue to hear from "subs" in new england, tennessee, iowa, you name it. Do they do me the courtesy of asking why I want someone local? No. Do they ask me if someone who is free to move to San Antonio would be considered? Do they ask if it matters that they are independently wealthy or can work anywhere in the country? No and no. Instead they assume that they know what is going on here, and they know what I want, and plow ahead with no consideration for my clearly stated boundary/interest level. I will therefore state (again) clearly: I am looking for someone who is local. I have no time or interest to engage in the kind of drawn out online vetting that I would require to allow someone to move to San Antonio because of me. It doesn't matter if you have money, employment, high employability, connections or a lack thereof where you are or in San Antonio. If you do not live in or near San Antonio or regularly (3 or more times a month) come to San Antonio ALREADY you are NOT LOCAL and I am NOT INTERESTED. If you are curious about what it tells me when you are not local but you contact me anyway with the intention of becoming my submissive, look for my earlier journal writing addressing this very same topic.

I have long been fascinated by the basic concept of "How". How do I develop actual power over a sub. How do I instill a true mindset of submission or devotion. How do I get and keep control/power over a whole person. How do I actually mold someone, train them. How do I create an environment where I can unleash myself. How do I get the results that I desire. One thing I've learned is that people develop a core let's say picture of themselves. They develop this idea of who they are in their head, how does she talk, walk, dress, think, her desires, priorities, perceptions, etc etc. Once we have this image in our head this definition of who we are, our minds will do mental backflips to rationalize anything that might challenge this. There is an incredible inertia against any form of challenge or change. Even if you want to change, even if you want to be someone else, it's climbing a mountain. I have met all too many submissive women who on the face of things are willing to do an endless litany of gross, dirty, rough things. Their minds then go through this incredible process of rationalization and narrative building to square that in a way that doesn't challenge their inner self. They will then balk at something incredibly simple that invades their non submissive compartmentalization. One of the core pillars in my philosophy of dominance is to challenge her conception of herself. If I can subjugate your idea of who you are, I can move the real you in so many possible directions. Real power and dominance is not about how hard I can hit you or making you do the grossest things I can think of, it is about owning the idea of you. Once that is done the possibilities are endless.

I am English by birth, I just currently live and work here. WInters are hard and long and endlessly dark, summers are beautiful and short and endlessly bright. This is a place of extremes, where there is very little grey between the darkness and the light, much like myself. I do not plan on staying here, and when I do move on it would be nice to have company, here or, ideally, in the world. I am on Signal only. I am spiritual, born out of my time, believe shame and guilt are hurdles to be pushed past and overcome, and I behave as the situation requires. I enjoy predicament bondage, corporal punishment, and distinguish between training, discipline and punishment. My skills include, but are not limited to, orgasm control, use of canes, balancing pain and pleasure, finding things most consider difficult to find, pushing limits and boundaries, mental domination and having an extremely open mind. I am not a stranger to Gor, at all levels of commitment to its tenets. Come and say hello. The worst thing that will happen is that you will add another name to your block list. I am an acquired taste. How about you?

In correspondence with a gent, I was inspired to write this.  I am posting it here because it will help you understand me. Q1 - Are you looking for a Unicorn?  Since it has only been a few months since my beloved hubby died, I am NOT seeking My Unicorn at this time.  Instead, I seek D/s friends and experiences so that I can enjoy My Dominance.   Q2 - What do you like to do or have done to you? I'm not going to list specific sexual activities here.  You can read my preferred activities in my profile.  I put much care into what I have selected there. I will, however, tell you about Me and My sexuality.  I enjoy connected conversation, a gents' scent as we hug and that tingle in My loins as he kisses My hand.  I enjoy the angst on his face when I direct him to lift My hair while I put on My jacket.  An then, I revel in the public intimacy as he reaches into the warmth at the nape of My neck and lifts My hair. I'm very oral and tactile.  I love kissing, massage and foot worship.  I love to be touched and tasted.  Yes, he shall tend Me.  But more, he shall adore Me.  I am possessive of My boys' genitals and ass.  CFNM seems a natural way of being and reinforcing status.  I am private.  My gent and I understand the quality of our time together.  But, it's nobody else's business. LadyD.

Clocks. Have we talked of this before? It feels familiar. Let's set the stage. There are four clocks in my bedroom - one on a surface against each wall, and one of those clocks also casts onto the ceiling. Basically, open your eyes wherever you are and you can easily know the time. Or a time. For six months of the year I live in the wrong time. I do not adjust my clocks for daylight savings. Which means I have to remember, at 3 in the morning when I look at the clock to see how much longer I can sleep, if the clocks are accurate or if I need to do basic math in my head.  One clock kept randomly alarming. I gave up, it's unplugged. Down to three and a ceiling. Whenever it was that the power went out months ago, it knocked out all of the clocks but one. Meh, good enough. One clock it is. Yesterday I was tidying up and reset two of the three clocks and the ceiling. It's a small thing (that's what she said), but it made me happy to look at that one other clock from where I was sitting and also see the ceiling time. And then four hours later the storm knocked out the power for thirty seconds. Sigh. But okay. This morning I reset them. I came home to blinking clocks again. Why, Universe? I am back to my one original clock, currently no math needed. Unlike the kitchen appliance clocks that basically hold your cooking rights hostage until you set the time, I don't have to deal with bedroom clock terrorists. I'll try again in a few months. Maybe. 

As some here know, I host a weekly Social Group in Real Time here in Dayton. I has been put on the back burner as it where, due to work and life. I have set as a monthly event. Last week we talked of Collars and leashes. The meaning and use of them. There was some open play as well some private in the play room. Being that it is on Sudays, the turn out was a bit lower than I hoped but that only let memebers and guest be more open and realxed. As aways it was a blend of BDSM , Swingers and those with Fetish or Freak tendaces. Next month the focuse will be on Rope Art and Bondage. MASTER R.

In just one word to describe what it feels like to love someone who will never love you back- Hollow. Other words come to mind. Empty. Void. Blank. Pointless. Hollow. Because that’s exactly what it is. It’s like eating junk food when you’re not even hungry or hungover because you are sure, so sure that it will satiate you. That it will make you happy. That it will give you some sort of sense of satisfaction and contentment. But that feeling never comes and you’re left just sitting in front of what is essentially, a waste, with nothing to show for it but a mess you’ve done to yourself. Junk food isn't good for you. In moderation it won't harm you but every day it will take it's toll on your health. Loving someone who doesn't love you is exactly like consuming junk food daily. It leaves you feeling so full you're empty.  It’s an uphill battle where there’s nothing waiting for you at the top. A triathlon with no one waiting for you at the finish line. It’s fighting every single day with bloody knuckles and an even more battered heart hoping that someone will be there to make everything worth it, everything okay. Then you realize that you’re standing on your own with absolutely nothing to show for yourself or all your struggles. Then you're responsible for picking up those pieces of your own emotions solo. But they're broken pieces that never will be the same or fit together "just right" any longer.  Metaphors aside, there’s not really anything good or at the very least, fulfilling, that comes from falling in love with someone who you know deep down will never truly love you back. It’s purposeless. It’s empty. It leaves you completely hollow. Loving someone, really truly loving someone, who cannot and will not love you back isn’t something that will make you stronger. It can teach you a lot of things, but make you stronger? Not really. No matter which way you paint it, whatever beautiful embellishment you try to put onto your own cliché unrequited love, of rose coloured glasses.  Because the number one thing you learn when you love someone who doesn’t love you back? It’s that sometimes, love really isn’t enough. Loving someone, and continuing to love someone who will not love you back isn’t brave. And it isn’t strong. While there is something to be said for having a big heart and having the capacity to give pieces of yourself to people who don’t, and don’t deserve to, appreciate you, holding onto them when they aren’t holding back isn’t brave or strong or good. It’s self-destructive. Because deep down, truthfully, that’s what loving someone who you know will never love you back really is. It’s dousing your core in gasoline, handing them the match to see what they’ll do, and setting everything on fire yourself when you realize that they’re indifferent about what does or does not happen. And the longer it takes you to realize that that’s the case, that you’re responsible for your own entire wreckage, your destruction, the longer it will take you to scoop up your own ashes and rebuild yourself when you finally come to your senses. Hollow. That’s what trying to fill yourself with someone who doesn’t truly love you is. It’s empty. It’s unfulfilling. It’s hollow. It will do nothing but frustrate you, fail you, and leave you standing there with nothing but the remnants of a you, you don’t even recognize in your own hands. Because that’s the cost of loving someone who does not, and will not love you back. You. You won’t lose this person who you’ve idealized, who you’ve loved unrequitedly. You won’t miss out on “what could’ve been” and you won’t fail to jump onto a train that was maybe heading your way. You won't be sad that the ship you were about to board has already sailed. You won’t find yourself gring at the fingertips of anyone else, because the only person you will have failed to truly hold onto is YOU.  You. So what does it honestly mean to love someone who doesn’t love you back? It means losing you, losing yourself. It means letting go of things that may be actually tangible, and favouring something you will never actually hold close. It means putting a fantasy in front of your own reality, fragments in front of your own holistic life. Loving someone who will not love you back is quite simply, a waste of your precious, precious time. So what do you do? What do you do when you find yourself sitting there, attempting to justify and make sense of someone else’s ambivalence and your own inexplicable need to love them when they haven’t asked for it or earned it? You let go. You move on. No matter how hard it is, no matter the struggle. No matter how much you want to cling to them, and no matter how much you feel like you love them. You have to let them go. Because in letting them go, you know who you’ll get to hold onto instead? You. And that’s the only thing you’ll ever really need, anyway. Love yourself first.

I am a little oddly obsessed with my ears. Or rather, with having clean ears. I'm not sure why, it just is. One time I was sitting in a room full of people at a workshop and the ice breaker was what would you bring to a deserted island? As people introduced themselves and answered the question I heard all of these brilliant high brow responses. But all I could think about was there wouldn't be any Q tips on the island and I would definitely need those. Yes, I know, you're not supposed to put those in your ear. C'mon, man, who doesn't? If the answer is you, immediately stop reading this and go away, we cannot be friends.  So yeah, it's Prime Day. Do I want some fancy kitchen gadget? Probably. Did I buy a hair drying curling thing that I will likely only use twice? You know I did. But you know what else? That ear tool with the camera on the end so you can see all that inside business. And holy buckets, one day shipping! So yeah, it came in this evening and I fired that bad boy up to see just how well my Q tipping has done.  First, it takes some getting used to, the view is backwards. Oh, there's an app so you can see the camera's view on your phone. Left is right, up is down, etc. Everything looks HUGE, you will love that. But so does the wax. Mine was not bad, but with my vigilance I was expecting bare floors. Not the case. Don't worry, it wasn't much, and I officially have clean ears now, but sweet baby Jesus I cannot believe how amazing that little tool is. A clean ear keeper's dream. Ten out of ten. Go get one. Don't use it to make other things look bigger.  Is this the weirdest post so far? I'm not sure. 

I am using this journal entry as a reminder for all of us to listen to our instincts. Distrubing experience, i had a man, [USERNAME REMOVED], contact me, he was nice and courteous, said he was very intrigued and wanted to get to know me better. Not having photos on my profile, as a courtesy, in my reply I sent a photo stating it was from 2 weeks ago, and requested one from him without hats or sunglasses. He replied that I had sunglasses and he wanted photos from me without sunglasses. Red flag for me that he will be a problem  I replied, this is not tit, for tat and I dont feel we will suit. Thanked him for his interest and wished him good luck. I then also explained those were not sunglasses, but preion red filter glasses for a sun sensitivity. They don't prohibit clear view of my face at all In an aggressive accusatory tone, he replied, my photo looked like a strip mall in the US with cars and trucks. And i was not good at faking photos, and I looked like a man in a dress 😂  i had already said the photo was from 2 weeks ago, I didnt feel the need to say it, but it was while i was in the US and the strip mall was where i had my hair done. His accusatory tone and misogynistic turn, proved to me, from that first reply about the photo, I was correct in feeling he would be a problem. Always trust your instincts. Nonetheless, i wrote a reply acknowledging, yes it was in a strip mall in the US while I was visiting 2 weeks ago and had he asked about the fact Im in Portugal and it appears the photo is from the US, his question would have been answered. And it would have been a lesson in assuming the worst in people. My theory about that, is people tend to project onto you what they would do and hence the distrust. He'll never learn the lesson, after he went Jekyll and Hyde, he blocked me. People live in multiple places and travel all over the world, have photos from everywhere, phone numbers from different countries and if you have questions about where they are actually located, simply ask. ASSUMPTIONS never work out!  

Aceasta este o ușă pe care ar fi bine să o lași închisă. Există ceva în spatele lui pe care nu vrei să-l dai afară și în viața ta. Sunt lucruri care nu sunt înțelese de oameni, lucruri care pot pătrunde prin furnirul de material pe care îl numim realitate. Lucruri împotriva cărora nu poți lupta și pentru care nu poți găsi ajutor, lucruri care nu pot fi explicate și care nu vor fi ignorate ca o simplă coincidență. Pleaca acum. Unele lucruri sunt mai bine lăsate netulburate. Nu sunt altceva decât un mincinos și un hoț, sunt un escroc și o să te rănesc. Nu sunt o persoană bună. Sunt înșelător și nu am conștiință, tot ce iese din gura mea este o minciună. Te-ai dat peste mine, nu invers, nu am nevoie să-ți văd profilul complet, sunt aici de la început (cunoscut sub multe nume, fețe), l-am văzut deja, pleacă acum și pleci neafectat . Nu ești suficient de puternic pentru a mă egala, nu ai treabă cu mine decât dacă deschizi ușa asta și îți va părea rău pentru asta. Veți rămâne cu vagi concepții greșite, renunțare la fidelități, nesiguranțe personale. Minciunile sunt întotdeauna reconfortante, dar adevărurile adesea ustură. Doar pleaca

  While I’m on a break from Fetlife, one thing I’m conscious of is that I tend to post things about looking for someone to go for cups of tea with, visit graveyards, go to bookshops and then snuggle up for reading. It’s pretty silly, but it’s meant sincerely. While I have to stop myself from adding “apply within”, in the end, it reflects how I would like a relationship to start. A thing of meeting for tea, visiting graveyards/taking quiet walks, and sharing a love of books and reading. Of course, it isn’t everything I want, and I hope that’s obvious as this is a kink site. It’s just that, as I’ve probably said so much that people are sick of it, I want to make a connection on a vanilla level and then grow the kink side of things. I’m looking for a band that takes more than just a love of kink, and I want to go slowly and surely. Eventually, I’d want things to develop into something more committed, and deeper, and to bring in other elements. I just don’t want to rush it. I don’t want to be someone’s mistake. I also want to be sure that most of our mutual needs can be met, and that both of us are working on whatever we need to work on - trauma is being addressed, patterns of behaviour are being broken if they’re negative, and so on. I want to be sure that the connection with this hypothetical person is strong, and that it can withstand a lot of shit - because I think life is going to get more, not less, difficult in the next few years. Any relationship is going to have to be strong enough to ride out the coming storms.Adding to this, I suppose I should expound on what I actually want. Before I go on, I should ask that the reader remember that this is me putting things out into the universe, so of course it’s selfish as fuck - I imagine yours would be too… Isn’t that sort of the point? (It strikes me as odd that we both castigate the “I have no limits” people, but also defining what you want can lead to you being accused that “you’re trying to control things and reduce me to a fetish dispenser” - the point is to talk things through and get to a happy medium, surely?). This is my “moon on a stick” list of things I want to have in a relationship. Vanilla: I want a relationship based on love, trust, communication, and sharing, and that reflects shared values. I want something where we can have separate bedrooms, though, in part because I snore horrifically and I feel guilty if I disturb people’s sleep. I also have restless legs - no idea why, but I suspect it’s anxiety related - and so I want to sleep alone to avoid kicking my partner. I also want to have a space that is mine (mine, all mine, bwahahahaha), because I want somewhere I feel I can go to write, create, and study. Or even just curl up if I need to be by myself because sometimes I do. This isn’t a slight against a hypothetical partner, it’s just how I am. I’m very introverted, think I may be an HSP, and there are times when alone feels like bliss - not because of who the other person is, or anything they’ve done… just because I need that time by myself for my sanity. Touch is, however, very important to me and is probably my primary love language, so I would like a lot of that. I enjoy acts of service too and supporting the person I’m with. I like giving massages and other forms of body worship too. I am happy to take responsibility for housework, cooking, and other domestic chores. This being said, I am a writer and I do need time to work and I expect that to be respected in a relationship. I hope my partner will have their own passions outside of kink and that they can be things we can share (books, board games, cats - you know, stuff like that). I value creativity, so I’d love it if they were also a writer or an artist, or something like that.  I know we don’t have to be completely in tandem, but at the same time, I have learned that shared passions are very often the key to a relationship and that losing that common ground can spell disaster. I’m not sure how I feel about having children - I used to be very opposed but now, I just don’t know.   

I dont' mind telling you, fetish world, kink people, that I am frustrated. I am frustrated by the surge of Omicron after we finally seemed to be turning a corner on the original COVID, then Delta, etc.  I am frustrated that this is slowing down my ability to pursue my interests, as I don't consdider it wise to go hang out in a bar right now or get coffee with an interesting individual.  It is making me take my time even more than usual in my seeking of the right person, and I think in some discussions I've had, it is slowing down others' will or desire to take those risks as well. And that's ok because I'd rather spend my time with someone who shares my risk appetite than someone throwing caution to the wind. I've also seen a really disturbing trend of interesting people just deleting their profiles here mid conversation. I strongly suspect that the ambient stress of pandemic life and the demands of what should be Normal Life are creating unsustainable levels of internal conflict for folks, who eventually just hit the panic button and run from places like this.  I don't have a cure, that's for sure. The scientists keep working on it though. There's a new pill based treatment getting Emergency Use Authorization as of late December 2021. The vaccines work, boosters are available, and the whole testing thing, while it needs work, is somewhat available.  So do me a favor folks. Especially those of you possibly interested in a Domme like me, because I want my social life back. Get your damned shot. Get your booster. Get your friends and family vaxxed.  There's really no reason to help the virus find victims, it's good enough at that on its own.  

A good mantra for a submissive to live by... A submissive’s life is to be in service as required and of service however desired and solely for their Dominant and Owners pleasure amusement and comfort. A submissive’s function should be to strive to be a completely willing and capable of serving for the constant enhancement of the Dominant and Owner's daily life and pleasure in every way possible and on a continuous basis with absolute obedience, commitment and dedication. A submissive understands that the decisions and rules of the Dominant are to be accepted and followed without hesitation or conflict at all times regardless of personal feelings or conflict.  A submissive understands and willingly accepts that it needs its Dominant’s control, use, discipline and punishment as deemed fit at anytime. A submissive needs to accept that it's Dominants and Owner's pleasure, amusement and comfort must be its priority and be all that really matters to the submissive foremost.A submissive understands and accepts that its own pleasure must come from how well it pleases, serves and accepts being used and controlled by it's Dominant and that it may be rewarded if deemed appropriate or pleasurable to its Owner.

Survey Says?   What is your favorite thing to spank with and why? What is the most common thing you spank with and why? What is the most unique thing you have spanked with and where did it come from and how did you end up using it to spank with? What is the most common infraction you spank for? How frequently do you find your sub requires the correction?  (Spankings or otherwise.)   Send your answers and I will do another journal entry with the answers.

There he is, not too tall, gorgeous body, all man, all muscles, all mine. Kneeling and taking my rod like a hungry pup. I’m not going to lie, I’m a 57yo married bi man with a good looking uncut  rod enhanced by a metal cock ring. We spoke when he asked about my ring, he was fascinated. I always use it and never leaves my cock. I went to the gym and showered with it and wore no towel when I was out of the shower. That’s when he talks to me for the first time. One conversation led to the other and in day he asked me why I wore my ring and to my surprise if he could touch it. Right then and there I knew I had him. I offered to let him wear it to feel it but he hesitated. Why , I asked. He moved away and left.  The next few days he was distant but never far away. I kept my distance because I know every str8 male finds himself confused when it comes to like another man’s endowment. His brain is telling him one thing and his body is urging him to accept and surrender to the primal feeling growing inside. Eventually we met in the nearby cafe and he asked if he could sit with me. We spoke and again the cock ring came up. And I directed the conversation to our manhoods and how it is natural to look and compare. Then out of no where the question, “can you show me it again?” He is not interested in seeing my rod, so he says but I know the real motive. Later in the car I pulled up my rod but it was semi hard. “If you want to see it hard you either have to stroke it or suck it.” To my surprise he looked straight to my eyes and timidly at first he tasted his first cock. I leave the rest to your imagination. 

Mentioning the age is off limits here but my training lasted 8 years and was my first sexual experience.  I knew I had to keep quiet about it but it was the only thing positive going on in my life in those years.  Life at home was miserable; girls weren't interested because I'm so short.  I couldn't compete in sports even if I had wanted to.  But 2 or 3 afternoons every week I learned more and more about how to overcome my height deficit and be useful and likeable for men.   From day one, it was drilled into me to keep my hands and my mind on him, not on myself.  That was the most important part when training for sexual submission.  To this day, I will not touch myself when anyone is using me.  It's all about my partner and their pleasure, about keeping all the energy moving toward them.